


Textiles

by PrittlePrince, thatviciousvixen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, We played a little fast and loose with aspects of their characters, to fit the story arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2183121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrittlePrince/pseuds/PrittlePrince, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/pseuds/thatviciousvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College is hard enough to manage without the tangled web of relationships to worry about. But Will can't seem to ignore his intense, quiet roommate, and he's feeling braver than he ever has. All he has to do is ignore the advances of the well-spoken upper class-man from Lithuania and the meddling hands of his friends and everything will go just fine. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The summer heat was oppressive as Will walked home from class, messenger slung across his body and glasses slipping down his nose. It gathered on his lower back as a thin sheen of sweat, coaxing his threadbare white v-neck to cling to his skin. The setting sun had turned everything deep shades of red and purple, shadows making the street look eerie and still. It was perfect. His favorite time of day was twilight, the moment when everything was quiet and the world was shifting to night. Humidity thick in the air, moths flitting around the street lamps, crickets starting to sing...it seemed more like home than any other time of day. Especially walking up to the old remodeled Victorian he and his roommate, Frederick, were renting. The setting was ideal for someone who always felt more comfortable on the outskirts of society.

Dead leaves crunching underfoot, he cut through their neighbour’s yard as he approached the house. He could see a pair of black boots and skinny legs poking out over the stoop, alerting him to Frederick’s presence as he drew closer. For a moment Will stilled-he felt like he was always sneaking up on his roommate, invading his solitude with his mere presence. Not that Frederick ever seemed annoyed, or put out by Will. He’d always been perfectly polite, a model roommate since they’d moved in a few months ago. While there wasn’t a tight bond between them there was respect, and that was all Will could really ask for. Although friendship might be nice, if they gave it a try.

Maybe even something more, if he was feeling particularly optimistic. 

With a deep breath he adjusted his bag on his shoulder, walking until he could see Frederick sitting on the porch. He had a cigarette perched between his lips, staring out into the night-lost in thought, apparently. Will steeled his nerves, moving closer. 

“Hey.” Will spoke quietly, never too comfortable announcing his own presence. 

Leaning heavily against a wooden beam, Frederick resisted the urge to tense as Will approached. An air of cool confidence had settled around him in the summer dusk and he had been enjoying it until Will’s arrival. Now a flush began to crawl up his neck, and he willed his heart to settle, stretching his legs out before him and crossing them as he squared his shoulders and looked down his nose at Will. Idly he rolled the open bottle of wine he’d been enjoying along the step and against his thigh, his fingers gripping the neck and twirling it gently. He’d already polished this one off, but there was another in the fridge. It was friday after all.

Glasses had slipped low on Will’s nose and his t-shirt was clingy and revealing: Frederick eyed appreciatively the way the gently shifting muscles of Will’s stomach were clearly visible above the jut of his hips. He tried to remain outwardly impassive though his heart began to thump painfully in his chest.

Just as all the days previous that they’d known each other, Will was a vision and in response, Frederick was on-edge and fighting to appear genuinely aloof, collected. There was something different about the way Will was looking at him now though and Frederick felt a prickle of anticipation settle between his shoulders. While Will was never unkind or rude, he had not attempted conversation with Frederick more than a handful of times. He had at the beginning, tried harder. He was naturally a charming and inquisitive person and Frederick had seen him with his friends many times, arms wrapped around their shoulders as they laughed drunkenly and stumbled down the street. 

When Frederick hadn’t given much back Will seemed to have stepped back, remaining courteous but distant. He was an excellent roommate: fastidiously clean and a good cook. Frederick often returned from class to find the house smelling of delicious and simple home cooked meals. Sometimes it was even a point of bother, when Frederick stumbled home drunk some mornings and found the house filled with the delectable smell of a breakfast he’d missed. 

While Will was always tidy and often at class or in the studio when Frederick was home, he left mementos of his presence everywhere. The delicious smells were the first thing Frederick noticed. Eventually he noticed things in the bathroom; a smudge of clay in the shower, a second pair of glasses on the sink, and sometimes odd tokens on the back of the toilet. One day there had been a small pile of bird feathers. The following week had been a couple pieces of sea glass, turquoise and white. Yesterday he’d found a small bird skull and he’d held it, entranced for a while before putting it back. It’d been gone when he’d awoken that morning.

Now Will was peering up at Frederick from under his eyelashes, gaze mildly hopeful and sweet, and Frederick’s heart beat wildly in response. He held his serene expression with great difficulty as he nodded to Will in kind, taking a drag with narrowed eyes and wiggling his fingers lightly in the other boy’s direction in a welcoming gesture.

To Will, the gesture was as good as a genuine smile. He’d never been very good at making friends; most found him to be on the weird side, dark and brooding and often wary of people’s intentions. On top of that he was terribly shy, and awful at picking up on social cues. He’d spent so much of his childhood following his father’s erratic migration patterns that he’d never had the chance to settle down and learn how to make friends. College had finally presented the opportunity to put down roots, to finally feel at _home_ somewhere. Unfortunately he was failing miserably at it. 

Will had a pretty good intuition-eerily good, really. He was quite talented at getting into people’s brains, examining their thoughts and their potential responses to scenarios. Sadly, it often stopped him from approaching people, as he already had a good idea of what their reaction to him would be. In the beginning he had sincerely hoped Frederick wouldn’t be like everyone else, wouldn’t see Will as some ‘other’ to avoid. And he didn’t; not as far as Will could tell, at least. Unfortunately that hadn’t lead to them being best friends. They had a mutual sort of understanding, a wary appreciation of each other, but more often than not they were two ships, silently passing each other in the night.

This though, this was big. This acknowledgement was a huge step forward, and Will wasn’t going to blow it.

He didn’t want to run inside, not on a perfect night like this. He himself had envisioned sitting on the porch and enjoying the sticky summer air, maybe getting high and having a beer before heading in to make dinner. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he stared pointedly down the street as he spoke.

“I was going to sit out and smoke. Would it bother you if I joined you?” he asked cautiously, trying to sound as casual as possible.

A gentle breeze passed through, rustling the trees and cooling Frederick’s skin. He eyed Will casually but did not respond. After a moment of quiet consideration, he reached behind his ear and pulled forth a joint, rolled with precision (and verily prettily, Frederick thought with a small swell of pride). He brought it to his lips. The crushed remains of his cigarette fell apart under his boot as he lit the spliff, taking a few tight drags before holding it out towards Will. 

It was pinched delicately between two fingers and he did not look up, taking great interest in the wine bottle and considering if the second bottle might also perfectly complement the weed. The answer, as usual, was a definite probably.

Will easily hid how eager he was to join Frederick, taking the joint and sitting next to him on the steps. Using his free hand to push his glasses into his hair, the other brought the expertly rolled thing to his lips to take a drag. He was immediately soothed by the smoke, letting the smooth burn of it fill his lungs. Whoever Frederick bought from sold expert stuff. It was dark and earthy, with a floral quality that Will had never tasted before. 

When he exhaled the smoke was thick, thick enough that he could quickly suck it back in before once more letting it curl over his lips and into the night air. Taking one more hit, he let his head fall back as he passed the joint back to Frederick. He exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes fluttering shut. 

“S’good,” he sighed, leaning back on his elbows. 

Drawn to Will’s hair as his glasses sat perched in the curls, Frederick unconsciously ran his hands through his own unruly hair as he carefully took the joint, mindful of Will’s fingers. He liked the way the other boy stretched out, tranquil beside him and he sunk back against the railing, letting the weed weigh him down. Somehow, he had not imagined their first foray into friendship to be so calm. From one step above, he could watch Will openly, and he let his gaze wander as he pulled again on the spliff, holding it in before letting it drift from his nose slowly. 

His head was already buzzing spasmodically with the coupled effect of the alcohol and the weed, making his shoulders sag and his breath come easier. He twiddled again with the neck of the wine bottle, remembering again that it was empty. He let out a quiet sigh and took another drag before holding it out for Will. When the boy had taken it, Frederick unsteadily got to his feet, gripping the neck of the empty bottle with loose fingers. 

As he turned to enter the house he placed an anchoring hand on Will’s shoulder, silently willing him to stay put. The contact was firm but brief before he dropped the bottle noisily into the recycling as the screen door squeaked shut behind him. Inside, he allowed the coolness of the house to ground him and he stood unsteadily in the foyer for a moment, hopping around on one foot as he attempted to rid himself of his boots. 

After a final successful attempt, he padded into the kitchen and opened the fridge to rummage for the other bottle of wine; cheap, ten dollars at the liquor store and perfectly delicious for a summer evening. The fridge was fairly sparsely occupied with some vegetables and tupperware with questionable leftovers. There was a box of pizza inside and Frederick stomach gurgled with interest but dismayed, he reminded himself it was over a week old. Forlornly he gave up on food and instead returned to his original task.

When he returned outside, he had two glasses pinned between the long fingers of one hand and an open bottle in the other. They clinked as he set them on the step and sloshed wine into them, feeling mildly chagrined at his lack of coordination.

Will examined the spare glass for a moment before picking it up, taking a long sip. He’d never been much of a wine drinker, his dalliances with alcohol were always reserved for cheap, shitty beer and expensive whiskey. Still, the wine was sweet and strong and somehow managed to compliment the earthy smell of the pot that clung to their senses. 

He took another swig, staring absently into the night. Next to him Frederick was silent, clearly lost in his own thoughts as he exhaled the smoke he’d been holding in his lungs. Will couldn’t help but stare as it practically tumbled out of his mouth, joining the haze that hung around their heads in the dim porch light. Damn, he was beautiful. Will swallowed hard, staggered by the thought. He couldn’t stop it though, couldn’t quash the realization that his roommate looked perfect lounging on the step, wine glass in one hand and blunt in the other. He had the sudden urge to run in and grab his sketch pad, immortalize this moment so he could paint it later. He was full-aware that it would be too much though, too familiar too soon.

Instead he took the joint, pulling deeply as he studied the boy next to him. When he spoke it was with a thick, rich voice, lungs still full of the smoke.

“Where are you from?” he asked carefully, looking forward once more.

Entranced, Frederick watched Will watching him back. He seemed to be unaware he’d been caught staring, and Frederick wondered if the weed had hit him a little hard. He smiled a small smile and stared past Will to the road, pretending to take interest in something else as he plucked the joint from Will’s fingers. It was almost pooched.

He considered Will, knowing it would be hard to avoid answering a direct question. When he spoke, his voice was smooth and deep, surprisingly unaffected by the hours of silence he normally abided.

“From?” He looked down at himself, the darker tone of his skin somewhat more evident in the half-light. “Me or my parents?” His voice was level, but there was a joking glint in his eye.

Will let his head roll to the side, a half-grin curling his lips. “Both,” he said after a moment, absently running his fingertips over the edge of the step he was sitting on. “We’ve been living together since August and we barely know each other.”

Nodding sagely, Frederick chose not to address that particular truth. It was fairly clear it was his own standoffishness that had kept Will at bay, but the boy hadn’t given up completely. Tonight was a show of that. He wasn’t unwilling to approach Frederick again.

“My father is Cuban. My Mother is French.” He downed his wine in one go, and particularly enjoying the bitter tang as it steeled his nerves decided to forgo the glass as he drank again, tilting the whole bottle against his mouth and taking a small gulp. This wine was getting too easy to drink; he’d have to switch it up soon. The bottle thumped loudly as he set it on the porch, taking one last heated pull from the spliff before he flicked the pinched roach into the grass.

With a short sigh, Frederick eased onto this back, legs bent and settled on different steps as he lit another cigarette. He couldn’t see Will any longer but he could feel him, sitting near his feet. He stretched his legs out one by one, feeling the tug as the top of his jeans pulled low.

“They live in Ottawa now.” And Will knew the rest because it was exactly why they were here together, finding themselves in this small northern canadian town, surrounded by a golden forest and an abundance of wildlife. There was a thoughtful pause before Frederick responded in kind.

“What about you? I remember when you moved in- you’re not from Canada, right?”

Will nodded, letting his eyes drift over their yard. The owners of the house they rented from paid for a service, so it was always well kept. There were a few towering trees that provided a nice amount of shade during the day, and rose bushes grew healthy under the windows. The only hint of the occupants of the house were the ash tray constantly waiting on the top step and the recycling bin full of liquor bottles. 

“I’m from Louisiana,” he said after a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure that Frederick cared to know, but dammit, they were going to be friends. Will would see to it. “Well, originally. My dad moved us around a lot, he was a trade worker so he was constantly traveling looking for his next job. Went to high school in Metairie, though, part of New Orleans.” He could still remember how unhappy his father had been at being stuck in one place for so long, the resentment that radiated out of him at having to put down ties. Still, Will had loved being stationary.

Frederick closed his eyes against the buzz of the alcohol, letting the gentle breeze move over him. Flicking his cigarette indiscriminately, he offered a thoughtful hum as his mind wandered to a vague version of a younger Will, pretty and slight. He’d likely had difficulty making new friends with all the moving. Now that he was out on his own, Frederick wondered how many new parts of himself Will was likely to discover. He seemed to be already so deep in his artistic exploration: his sculptures were intense and practiced and bursting with grim emotions that Frederick quite liked. He didn’t feel nearly so confident about his own work.

“That must have been difficult.” Frederick didn’t like the sound of his own voice, then. He didn’t like to say inane things. He wasn’t sure what to offer Will at such a time. His hand lingered near Will’s back and he longed to press his fingers into the soft curls of his hair but he restrained himself, well practiced in the art.

Will gave a lazy shrug, too relaxed to worry about his lonely childhood. Anyways, he’d gotten better. While he was still a bit of a loner he’d managed to make some friends here, good friends. The kind you told your secrets to, who told theirs back and never, ever gave them away. 

Shifting to his hip, Will draped himself over the steps on his side. He looked up at Frederick, casting a curious eye over him. Despite his keen ability to discern people’s thoughts and personalities, he could never quite tell if Frederick was shy or if he really was as aloof as he broadcasted. Either way, there was something nice about the comfortable silence that kept falling over them. It was easy to be in someone’s presence when you weren’t constantly trying to drive a conversation. 

Reaching over, he stole the wine bottle for a sip. “I owe you,” he said, wincing as the wine burned a harsh trail down his throat, “The wine and the weed were both yours.”

Frederick smiled at that, getting up on his elbows and tilting his head at Will. Seeing his face again, Frederick’s heart gave a little jump and he took a drag as he openly stared. _Alright_ , he thought. There would be a next time, then. Maybe another time when Frederick was feeling more chatty, he could get Will to open up about his art. It was personal, though, and he would wait for the right time. He gave Will a small nod, a grin tugging at his lips.

He took a moment to sit up, shrugging out of his jacket before balling it up and placing it under his head. Flicking the butt of his smoke into the nearby can, he closed his eyes and let his hands fold on his stomach, crossing his legs and letting the last rays of sun warm his feet. Swimming from the weed and the wine, he hummed contentedly, a sound he didn’t often share with anyone. It was as good as conversation for him. He felt plaint and cozy, wishing he could pull Will up beside him and listlessly draw his fingernails over the sun-touched skin of his arms. He settled for indulging his imagination. Thoughts about Will had long plagued him, and he was almost used to it by now. 

Will watched as two girls meandered down the street, both inundated with large, bulky looking bags of supplies from the local hardware store. It was a common sight in this neighborhood. Many of the homeowners had moved south for warmer weather, renting their homes out to students or young families looking for a cheap start. Their street in particular was all student housing, save for one dilapidated looking home which stood empty. Naturally it was a favorite place for wayward youth to sneak in and get high-Will and Alana had just snuck in last month to do shrooms in private. 

Drawing in a deep breath, Will enjoyed the last few musky breaths before the haze of weed dissipated entirely. 

"I wish I could stay. After graduation," Will mused, more or less thinking out loud. He couldn't imagine going back to Louisiana, but also couldn't fathom where else he might belong. He had no intentions of going back to his father; they hadn't parted on good terms, apparently art school was a waste and Will was a hopeless dreamer for imagining he could make a living off of his sculptures. That line had severed the moment he walked out, slamming the door behind him. 

He let out another breath, nodding politely as the girls passed in front of them. 

Understanding the longing Will was feeling, Frederick nodded. He’d argued with his father endlessly when he’d decided to drop out of med school. Everyone in his family was a doctor, including his sister, and Frederick had been pushed to become a surgeon like his father. He’d gotten a free ride, his parents paying for everything, but his hands never seemed to be steady enough and the sight of blood made him a little weak. Finally he’d gotten a job, saved enough money to live and moved out into the wilderness to spend more time exploring himself. 

His work with fibers and textiles was repetitive and calming and textural, soothing for the mind. He did it to put himself at ease and a few of the instructors had taken notice of his good eye for composition and form. He hoped his work invoked a desire to touch the art, as it did with him: to sooth the viewer as they ran their hands over the various objects wound into the textiles. But he also felt a small circle of panic blossom in his chest when he wondered about what he would do after school. Would he be a successful artist? Make enough money to live? Under the shadow of other talented student like Will, Frederick wasn’t sure. Would his dad be proven correct: was there no way to make your way in the world just doing what you loved?

“We’ll find our way.” He said finally, sitting up and wiggling his fingers for the bottle. “Best to enjoy the now. I’m sure we’ll look back on it fondly.”

Will nodded, chewing his lip. He watched as the girls made it to their house, disappearing inside and latching the door behind them. His future was a big question mark, he had no idea where he might be after all of this was done. 

Sitting up, he gently bumped his knee against Frederick’s calf. "Come on, I'll make us pasta or something." 

Eyebrows raised, Frederick leaned back to look up at Will, holding the bottle against his stomach with an honest look of surprise on his face. After a moment, it passed and he stood up, following Will into the house amicably, fondness fluttering helplessly in his stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

As though rising face-first through ice-cold rapids, Frederick awoke to the piercing ring of his phone alarm. He groaned and fumbled amongst his pillows for the contraption, finally wrapping his fingers around it and tapping clumsily at the touch-screen. With great effort he slithered half out of bed, blindly grabbing at the rumpled pile of clean clothes on the floor until he’d found items that resembled at least a top and pants. None of his clothes particularly screamed with pops of colour, so it was usually a safe bet that things matched.

He wandered into the hallway and thumped gently down the stairs, dropping his clothes by the bathroom door as he waited for Will, who was always up before him, to emerge. On autopilot, he stalked blindly to the kitchen, filling and boiling the kettle, grinding coffee, and setting his botom to brew before he wandered back to find the bathroom empty and steamy.

Inside, he shrugged himself into his clothes; a loose asymmetrical grey tanktop that had seen better days and a pair of black chinos he had rolled up to combat the heat. He stared drowsily at his reflection in the mirror, brushing his teeth and washing his face before considering if he ought to do anything in particular with his hair. It hung in disheveled waves over his forehead, dark and silky but not particularly tidy. The sides, cut quite short, always gave the illusion of a planned disheveled untidiness but in truth Frederick was just too preoccupied to work hard on it. 

He took one last look in the mirror, grimly rubbing the growing stubble around his jaw, before meandering back into the kitchen to press the button and fill up his travel mug. Will was nowhere to be found- he’d probably already left (they never walked together), which was usually a good indicator that Frederick was only marginally late. He threw a few beers and a handful of granola bars in his bag, and stepped out of the house with his travel mug and that week’s project wrapped carefully in tissue paper and tucked under his arm.

Locking up, he pulled a pinner from his cigarette case and carefully lit it in the shelter of the patio before meandering across the lawn and towards the forest trail that would take him to campus.

Not too far away Will watched bemusedly from Alana’s stoop as Frederick passed by, chewing absently on the rim of his own coffee mug. His wasn’t as fancy as Frederick’s-it came pre-ground in a giant tub, black and strong and good enough for the likes of Will. It somehow matched his overall appearance. That particular day he was in an old worn out pair of jeans and a dark blue plaid button up, sleeves rolled to the elbow. His glasses were already pushed into his hair, he only used them for the necessities; reading, fine detailing on his sculptures, the like.

Alana stepped out, locking her front door and moving to stand next to him. She followed Will’s gaze, eyes landing on Frederick as he stalked into the woods.

“Would you like to catch up with him?” she asked, smiling and offering Will a hand. He took it, clambering to his feet.

“Nah,” he shrugged, smoothing his shirt down. “We’re not really like that.”

“I thought you liked him?” she asked, confusion on her face. She looked impeccable as always, dressed in a loose white button up and skinny blue jeans, loose auburn waves twirled into a bun. Will had always found her so stunningly beautiful, and a secret little place in his heart loved her. Unfortunately what he needed and what he wanted were two drastically different things. He ought to pine for Alana Bloom, with her kind words, her wisdom, and her unending patience. 

Unfortunately his tastes were more along the lines of stale cigarettes, cheap wine, and nimble hands that knew their way around a textile.

“I do like him,” he said with a soft smile, offering his hand. She took it, lacing their fingers together as they began to walk. “But that doesn’t really mean that we like...hang out or anything. Last night was actually the first night we ever really spent in each other’s company.”

Alana sighed, shaking her head as she and Will meandered into the woods. “I just want you to make friends, Will.”

“I have friends,” he murmured. “I mean...I have you.”

Alana smiled fondly, shaking her head. “You do have me. You always will.”

 

The sun hitting his back, Frederick emerged from the woods and took the stone steps up to the back entrance of the school. The campus was small, incredibly so by normal standards. Only about 250 students attended any given semester, although there were a number of disciplines to major in. Artists were flown in from all over the country to teach weekly workshops to support the core staff- a diverse range of creators and craftspersons who each excelled in their chosen skill.

With such a small number of students, timetables were fairly predictable. Most days ran solid from nine to four, although Frederick had thursday afternoons off except for one hour after lunch. He usually spent it relaxing by the lake or wandering the nearby forest. The location was one of the numerous benefits the school provided: constructed just across the lake from a small but quaint cottage town, they were surrounded by countless stands of white pine and maple. In a few weeks the forests would glow red, orange and yellow, and the festival of trees would commence and last until the end of the fall season.

In the summers the town was a dream, overlooked by a towering esker swaddled in forest with a lookout at the very top. The lake water was cold and clear and good for fishing and swimming. In the winter there was dog sledding and the students walked the width of the frozen lake to school, halving the distance of the normal route. And every night, the stars shone so bright, and were mirrored so perfectly in the water, one could easily forget their troubles if they stared upwards.

Frederick had spent many nights doing just that, walking late at night in the dark through the quiet town and down to the lake’s edge where he’d walk to the end of the longest dock and lay on his back. He’d smoke and drink in the darkness, letting the gentle sway of the water sooth him as the shore disappeared from view and the water’s surface lit up with the reflection of the milky way. It was always peaceful. There were no lights, no cars, and very few wanderers like himself, at least by the dock. He’d frequently pass groups of students near the main street, spending too much money at the only pub in town and carousing with fellow classmates. They had good beer, but he didn’t go often. Best to save what little money he’d saved up on cheap alternatives.

Now, with the ever-present edge of a hangover and the buzz from the weed and his coffee, he entered into the school and walked the long corridor to the central entrance hall. Within were the cafeteria, registrars office and the dining hall/hangout spot. There was a corner with a fireplace and a few leather chairs.

He continued on under the shafts of light provided by the skylights and started down the other corridor, taking the first left into the fibre studio and settling gratefully into his workspace. Nursing his coffee and taking notes, Frederick survived the dull morning by focusing on his project, drawing patterns of fish scales and tendriled hair in his sketchbook as he thumbed thoughtfully through his booklet of swatches. He took a few breaks, spying Will briefly on his way outside for a cigarette. He’d been grinning and running his fingers through his own hair as he’d sat with Alana Bloom near the fireplace.

Frederick pointedly didn’t think too hard on the previous evening’s events, finding Will a particular distraction that didn’t need cultivation. He went back to class, finishing up the tedious sample assignment for that week’s instructor before breaking for lunch. His usual routine was to walk to the forest or sit by the studio entrances on the far side of the building, large garage doors that opened onto a wind-around concrete deck that backed onto the forest. Today the heat was getting to him, and he quietly grabbed his bag before heading down to the small hidden dock off one of the sub-trails. When he arrived he was relieved to find it uninhabited, and he stretched out on one of the benches, cracking a beer and smoking in the shade provided by the forest.

A few minutes later Will came down the path, feet dragging slightly with each step. It was one of his worst habits, he never seemed to pick up his feet when he walked. He stopped a few feet off, looking over the lake and pretending not to be hyper aware of Frederick’s presence. He soon turned to face him, tapping the mouth of his water bottle to his lips.

For a moment he pondered asking to join Frederick, but there was something so terrible uncool about needing permission to simply occupy space. How lame would his roommate find him if he simpered and begged to be in his orbit, like some annoying lackey or younger sibling? Steeling his nerves he moved closer, joining Frederick on the bench.

“How was class?” Will asked, digging through his bag. He found his sandwich, continuing to search until he located the second he kept for emergency situations. Careful not to look over, he held it out to Frederick.

Frederick eyed him from over a pair of sunglasses, mouth twitching slightly before he reached out and accepted the offer. Feeling affectionate and slightly gutsy, he purposefully let his thumb briefly caress the back of Will’s hand. Always a sucker for physical contact, but rarely indulging in it, Frederick committed the feeling of Will’s skin to memory. The back of the other boy’s hand was soft, but Frederick knew that his fingers and palms were much rougher from the dehydrating clay. Something to assess later, he supposed.

‘Thanks,” He added after a moment, not quite able to hide the tone of surprise. He dug into the sandwich, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before remembering Will’s question.

“A little dull today. Been focusing on my project mostly.” It had been a bit of a secret really. He’d assemble some parts of it in the studio but always brought them home to add to the main piece, which no one else had seen yet. Perhaps he’d show Will soon, if the boy was interested. But with talent the likes of which Will had, Frederick’s art wasn’t likely to impress.

“I… saw something you were working on earlier.” He felt a little out of his element, not one to encourage conversation. He looked out into the blue water and the pounding of his heart began to ease. “It looked absolutely horrifying.” He said it flatly, turning his face slightly towards Will, eyes hidden behind his shades.

“Although you ought to know… I mean that in the _best_ way. Very stimulating pieces.” He gave Will the hint of a wry smile before turning away again, stretching his legs out and crossing them as he fidgeted delicately with the sandwich.

Will’s heart froze momentarily, stuttering back into an anxious beat as Frederick complimented his work. He’d been so anxious lately about sharing his sculptures with the people around him. For so long he had hid behind projects he didn’t feel excited about, abstract forms and passionless landscapes made of clay and glass. Finally his professor (a favorite of his, Dr. Du Maurier) sat him down and challenged his sense of expression.

For the first time he was putting it all out there, letting the world see him for who he was. He didn’t leave Louisiana to be _safe_. 

“Thanks,” he said, laughing lightly. He finished his water, throwing the bottle at the can just a few feet away. Missing terribly, he dragged himself off of the bench to pick it up. “I have uh...some weird dreams. When I’m lucky I wake up remembering them enough to sketch them out.” He fell silent, mind tumbling back to his latest nightmare. He was beginning to forget, the images hazy and thin. He could remember fire, and the face of someone he thought might be his mother, but any time he focused too closely on her he would forget. Maybe his brain was keeping him safe from something. Maybe she just wasn’t worth remembering.

“Alana says hi,” he said after a moment. “I told her you barely know who she is, but for some reason she made me promise I’d tell you.”

Humming thoughtfully, Frederick finished the sandwich. He felt surprisingly nourished, both bodily and mentally. He certainly did know Alan Bloom; the way her small hands grasped onto Will and the way her hair tumbling over her shoulder made even Frederick look twice. She was pretty, and talented. She didn’t seem confined to one media, and her mastery of form and composition was something to behold. She was a straight-A student and clearly very disciplined. She was certainly a catch, especially for someone like Will. They were quite a stunning pair.

“It’s an honour. You can tell her I return the sentiment.” He prodded about in his bag, pulling forth two more beers, one he placed beside Will, and the other he opened with his t-shirt, encouraging yet more holes in the worn fabric. “Lucky man, you are.” Frederick sipped his beer, reclining further and staring out at the water again. The hills of trees on the other side of the town were beginning to tinge with small patches of orange.

Will’s hands were just rough enough from sculpting, he could easily twist the cap off without a moment’s struggle. He took a sip, looking absently up at the clouds. “Yeah, I am pretty lucky,” he mused. “She’s a great girl.” They had developed a mutual need to nourish and care for each other, both providing for the other in the ways they knew how. When Alana’s dish disposal broke Will was over at midnight, half in the cabinet as he repaired the mechanism. When Will was emotionally tender from another night of bizarre dreams she would come over early, making breakfast and stroking his hair until he felt warm and safe again.

“She’s a great _friend_ ,” he added thoughtfully. “I wish I weren’t gay, she’d make an amazing girlfriend.” With a shrug he took another swig of the beer, kicking absently at a pebble near his foot.

Frederick looked over his glasses at that, beer paused halfway to his lips. He took in the curl of Will’s shoulders, his obvious nerves as he avoided Frederick’s gaze. There was a strange buzzing tension between them now, Frederick could tell. His scrutiny lasted only a second, and he took a large gulp from the bottle, finishing it in a few swigs. His chest cramped a little painfully at the carbonation and he whacked his diaphragm with his fist to try and release the pressure. Settling back, he looked at his phone, noticing the time.

“Well… thanks for the sandwich. I owe you.” He rested his hand on Will’s knee briefly before standing and stretching in the sunlight, the muscles of his shoulders curling as he raised his arms above his head. He slung his bag back over shoulder before beginning to ascend the steps. After a moment, he turned around and regarded Will over his glasses with a lopsided smile.

“ _Coming?_ ”

Will looked over, unable to hide the surprise in his face at the invitation. He knew Frederick tended to be a loner, so asking Will to join him was quite the shock. He managed to compose himself quickly, scrambling to his feet and grabbing his bag. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,”


	3. Chapter 3

Frederick’s fingers were numb where they gripped the banister on the porch. That weekend had been the turning point for the cool weather of autumn and much to his chagrin it was now a bit windy and overcast. He’d been waiting on the steps for two hours for Will to come home, unsure if he’d gone out for studio time, or to Alana’s, or on his own adventure. Frederick had dedicated most of the week to planning a casual excursion up to the lookout, but hadn’t been able to muster the courage to actually ask Will if he’d come. 

There was something romantic about a slapdash date but the truth was he’d put so much effort into it now that it was hardly slapdash, it was _planned_. If Will didn’t return home before dark, or if he did but declined Frederick’s offer to join him on a hike, he’d have been crushed. Sitting half-frozen while trying to look for all the world as though he was just out for a cigarette (Will could return at any time), he realized now why he so often chose not to get so invested in passing romances.

Beside him was a knapsack full of beer, with just enough room for his sketchbook, pens, and his tiny travel container of weed. He’d carefully worked wax into the unruly hair hanging in front of his eyes, encouraging the waves into gentle curls that bounced in the wind. He’d fastidiously washed his face and brushed his teeth, and he’d even thrown on a dab of cologne. It was rich and warm and smelled like tobacco leaves and christmas. He’d worn his nicest sweater, navy blue and knit in a cushy fisherman’s rib. If Will happened to brush across it, he’d be drawn to fold his fingers into it. 

With a sigh, he leaned his chin on his fist, regretting that he felt compelled to _plan_ such things, that he had small hopes about exchanges he and Will might have. It made him feel foolish and lovesick and _very_ vulnerable. And as it was, he was beginning to feel very foolish indeed, freezing on the porch, muscles tense with the effort to remain in a nonchalant slouch over the steps, cigarette tucked behind his ear so he could light it when he needed to look busy. He felt heavy with the burden of expectation and desire and desperately hoped Will would return soon so he could get the whole thing out of the way, regardless of the outcome.

Another seventeen minutes passed before Will appeared down the street- not that Frederick had been counting. He was dressed in his usual inattentive way, scuffed and scratched jeans, tattered old work boots, and a shirt that had “Be a Hero, Donate Blood!” emblazoned across it- not that Will had ever donated blood. It felt ironic for a gay man to broadcast something he wasn’t allowed to do on his shirt. He’d found it in a thrift shop once and immediately snatched it up. Topping it all off was his usual burgundy jacket, pulled tight around him to keep out the wind that seemed so seep right down to his bones.

He wore the battle scars of a day spent in the studio, flecks of clay decorating his skin and clothing. A pen was tucked behind his ear, hidden in a swath of curls that made it nearly invisible. The chilled air did wonders for his complexion, giving him a rosy glow that seemed to start inside and radiate out.

The glow intensified as he found Frederick smoking on their porch. His roommate had been on his mind most of the day, moving fluidly between plaguing his thoughts and inspiring his passions as he sculpted. What had started as a nice distracting afternoon in the studio had turned into anything but. Every lucid moment was dedicated to dwelling on Frederick’s voice, his hair, the way he absently tapped his thumb against his cigarette while he was thinking. Will was hopelessly, desperately infatuated, and he didn’t know what to do. 

Stomach flipping, Will adjusted his bag on his shoulder and mounted their front steps. He tried to look cool as he offered a casual “Hey,” nodding towards Frederick.

Heart in his throat, Frederick offered a real smile, unable to do anything but. The cool exterior he’d worked so hard to maintain melted easily away the more time he spent with Will, though they’d only had a handful of real conversations. Now that his invitation was on the tip of his tongue, his nerves got the better of him and he was only able to keep smiling, caught by the windburn on Will’s cheeks. He opened his mouth, but didn’t manage much.

“Ah… _Hey_.” He huffed and looked down at his bent knees, restlessly ruffling the hair he’d spent far too long on. He was screwing it up already- just as he’d been about to give up and head out on his own, Will had rounded the corner and Frederick had felt relief fill him, but now… Now he felt anxiety. He sniffed, rubbing his nose into his own scarf and looking up at Will.

“I’m heading up to the lookout to do some sketching, maybe smoke a spliff…” He took a drag of his cigarette, holding it a moment before letting the smoke seep from his nose. He turned his body slightly, dropping a knee to open his posture to Will. Fidgeting nervously with the hem of his sweater, he looked up again.

“Looks like you’ve had a busy day, though. I was going to ask if you’d want to come. I guess its also a bit cold out, too…” He bit his lip, eyes dropping to Will’s feet, staring sightlessly with a stricken look on his face.

The response was out of Will’s mouth before he had a chance to choose his words. “I’d love to,” he said quickly, nearly choking on the sentence in his eagerness to get it out. Color rose quickly to his cheeks, flooding down his neck and probably further. “I mean. I’ve been stuck inside the studio all day, and they already have the heat blasting, it was so muggy...I’d really enjoy being outside for a bit, you know?”

He chewed at the corner of his lip, hoping he didn’t sound like an absolutely fool. His desire to sound cool was easily outweighed by his desire to spend more time with his roommate, so he wasn’t too concerned.

He looked quickly between the house and Frederick, checking his watch. “Do I have time to change? I want to get into something clean, and probably bundle up a bit more.”

Pinching his lips together, Frederick was half-successful at quashing his grin. He nodded, smoking and playing with his sweater.

“Could you grab me a scarf while you’re in there? I’ve got so many… grab one for yourself too while you’re at it?” He liked the idea of Will wearing something that belonged to him, and he was filled with happy jitters that settled like a comfortable blanket over his calming heart. That Will had agreed to come, that he’d seemed eager… Frederick felt like he’d earned himself a victory.

Will couldn’t contain his elated grin, didn’t bother trying. With a nod he vaulted into the house, tearing off his layers as he ran for his bedroom. It didn’t take long to change into a clean pair of jeans and a simple black long-sleeve shirt, pulling his jacket back on over it. He walked to his mirror, giving himself an appraising look. His hair was still a mess, but he’d long since realized that he’d just have to accept that and move on. Tugging absently at a few curls, he watched them spring back into place. It was no use.

After a quick stop in the bathroom to piss and clean the clay off his skin, he walked up to the forbidden land that was Frederick’s room. He’d only been inside once, putting some mail on Frederick’s bed so he’d see it after class. Now he felt bolder, wanting to take it all in before he grabbed the scarves.

The most prominent thing in the room was Frederick’s bed- it was a queen-size, and was absolutely laden with pillows, blankets and woolen things Will couldn’t quite discern. It looked like a nest, and seemed incredibly inviting. Beside it was an old desk with peeling blue paint and numerous miniature drawers, each with its own keyhole. He wondered idly what kind of trinkets and supplies Frederick kept in them. Perhaps they were empty. Perhaps he didn’t have the keyring to unlock any of them. The bed and the desk were the only two objects of great interest; there was a pile of clean clothes in the corner, a shelf holding some boots and a small cabinet that held all sorts of acid dyes and skeins of undyed yarn. 

After his quick look-around he moved to the closet, throwing it open. The abundance of scarves hanging inside was staggering. Frederick definitely had an obsession. Will took a moment to run his fingers over a few, appreciating how soft and inviting they felt. One in particular caught his eye, especially wide and long, knit in a vivid jewel blue. He carefully took it off its hanger, breath catching in his throat as he wound it around his neck. It was _lovely_. Soft against his skin, and scented like the cologne Will had noticed as he passed by Frederick walking into the house. Unable to resist the urge, he brought the material to his mouth and just _breathed_.

After a moment he caught himself, quickly choosing a scarf for Frederick. He grabbed his bag, thankful his sketchbook was already in there, running outside. 

“Alright, let’s do this.”

The hike up the side of the small mountain took about half an hour of trekking up steep and uneven trails, but when they made it to the top, breathless and sweating, it was completely worth it. The view was extraordinary, and as they walked to the cobble-lined platform and looked over, they could see the whole town, the lake and the school. Their house was a beautiful blue square near the beer store, and they could see the dock, where they’d first shared lunch, just down from the school.

The air on the esker was crisp, but the forest behind them protected them from the worst of the wind- not that Frederick minded much. He’d sacrifice the tidiness of his hair any day if he got to see the way the wind brightened Will’s cheeks. He turned slightly to appreciate Will’s profile, the landscape of the Canadian Shield spreading out behind him under the oranges and reds and yellows of the forest. The wind was just gently ruffling his curls, and Frederick ached to reach out and twist them behind his ear.

Finally, after a few long moments of appreciating the scenery, and Will, who looked stunning in one of Frederick’s favourite scarves, Frederick eased back to settle on a picnic table, setting his bag down heavily and reaching inside for his sketchbook and a beer. Will was first on his list, he knew. He _had_ to draw him. He’d been thinking about it the entire climb, and now, with his solemn blue eyes and blue scarf, and bright cheeks, surrounded by all the natural colours of fall, Frederick was dying to somehow immortalize that beauty. He was reminded vaguely of the iridescence of fish scales, and made a note of it in his book.

Will himself was lost in the cool air, the way the wind whipped around them to swirl dried leaves around their feet. He looked absent, peaceful. As his eyes scanned the scenery he gathered the softness of the scarf in his hand, getting lost in the texture. It was a habit of his, something he’d picked up during therapy when he was a teenager; texture soothed him, centered him. When he ran something soft through his fingers he could think, could focus his mind and pluck out the specific thoughts he needed. Closing his eyes, he let the yarn caress his skin, light and yielding.

When he opened his eyes he caught Frederick looking at him, immediately turning a deep scarlet. “I um. This is a really soft scarf,” he said lamely.

Frederick grinned, eyes shifting back down to his book as he sketched Will’s profile; his fingers tightened on the scarf around his neck, his glasses pushed back in his hair though a few stray strands came down to curl over his cheeks. Frederick thought he looked stunning, the warm sun picking up all the right tones and brightening them. He looked tranquil, serene, and Frederick’s pen paused on the paper as the clouds passed, unable to look away.

“It’s an alpaca blend…” He mumbled, eyes flicking to the wool in Will’s hands. “Please, fondle away. You think I don’t? Its how I choose my fibres.” He tried to look back to his paper, but still seemed unable to make a move, too captured by the moment. The air smelt incredible; burning leaves and petrichor, the trees giving off a faint sweet aroma. Frederick sagged, feeling immeasurably full and yielding to the scene unfolding around him. He gave Will a calm smile, nodding him over, his fears abated.

“Come have a beer.”

Will moved closer, negotiating his long legs under the picnic table. He folded his arms, resting them on the weathered wood. “I’m glad I caught you before you left,” he breathed, eyes heavy lidded as they swept over the surroundings. “It’s been a long week, it’s nice to come out and just enjoy the evening.” He took the bottle offered to him, wrapping the edge of his jacket around the cap and easily twisting it off. The sharpness of the beer only added to the perfection of the scenario.

“When did you learn how to knit?” he asked, looking back down to the scarf wrapped around his neck. He was incredibly distracted by the feel of it under his fingers, resisting the urge to rub it against his cheek. Was this the sensation Frederick was constantly surrounded by? The softness he invited into his life? Will felt his heart twist a bit in his chest at the thought.

Quickly flipping the page in his book, Frederick set his pen down on a blank page, sketching out a chart and filling in some of the squares to make a simple icelandic pattern for mittens. He bit his lips, glancing up at Will, eyes drawn to the way his thumbs continued to knead the yarn. It was nice to know Will clearly had an appreciation for fibre and texture; it was probably part of what made him such an amazing sculptor, his ability to press out what he saw into clay, instinctively knowing what something felt like and easily adding those subtleties to his pieces. Frederick had noticed from what he’d seen that Will had a distinctive skill for muscle and bone, intuitively understanding the movement of these pieces under the flesh.

“My grandmother taught me. I’ve been knitting since I was very young.” He watched Will’s fingers openly, sipping his beer. “I’m glad you enjoy it so much. I find that… well, most people don’t appreciate the effort that goes into working with fibres…” He flushed, eyes locked on his page as he drew small scales and began shading them, imagining winding them around himself like a blanket. He breathed, looking up again to catch Will’s eyes.

“What I make is for people like me… and like you.” He nodded to Will’s fingers moving over the ribs in the scarf. “Everyone likes things that are soft and feel nice,” He mumbled, making a face. “But it’s different when you focus on and find peace in it. It’s a haven, its protection, its the perfect kind of distraction to lose yourself in. Some of us can’t live without it.”

Will nodded, eyes wide as he took in Frederick’s words. The last sentence, so simple, hit him square between the eyes.

“I know what you mean,” he said, looking away. He was suddenly very interested in a leaf that had fallen on the table, picking it up and swiping his thumb along the dry surface. He followed each vein, each imperfection, before crumbling it in his hand and letting the wind sweep it away. Looking back up, he offered an awkward smile. “I was diagnosed with autism when I was young. I’m not too deep into the spectrum, more Asperger’s than anything, but I’m on there. So touch...I don’t know. It means a lot to me.” He looked down, drawing little patterns on the tabletop with his fingertip. “When I went to therapy we used a lot of tactile stimulants to keep me focused. I still find that interesting textures help me think.”

He busied himself with pulling his own sketchbook out, laying his pencils out in a neat row. He didn’t share that information very often, he’d never wanted it to be seen as a crutch, or an excuse. Being here, sitting with Frederick, it made him feel open in ways he never had before.

Frederick felt his heart hammering against his chest, felt it in his wrists where they’d pressed into the paper. He stared at Will’s hands, tenderness blooming and spreading throughout. That Will would share this part of himself meant something. _Something_. His hand itched and he squeezed it into a fist, eyes returning to his own book.

“Will…” He shut his mouth, biting his lip. What did it mean that Will felt comfortable enough to share something that was so much a part of himself. Their reasons for needing the sanctuary of touch were different, but Frederick knew they both found a similar relief. He fingered his own scarf, watching Will. He stopped thinking, stopped doubting, and reached his hand out to cover Will’s wrist, thumb sliding gently over his pulse.

“Thank you for telling me.” _I like you,_ his heart whimpered as he drew his hand back and wrapped it around his beer. 

Will’s arm twitched, for a moment he debated pulling away. He was worried Frederick might feel his blush through the simple touch, the way his body heated at the contact. He decided to be brave, turning his hand to offer his palm.

“It’s alright,” he said, giving what he hoped was a casual smile. “I mean, it’s more stigma than anything, you know? It’s why I don’t mention it much, people learn that I have it and immediately want to ask me what medications I’m on.” He drew his hand back, wrapping it once more in the scarf. “It’s probably good for you to know, now if you see me stroking something random you won’t think I’m sexually harassing you.” He laughed, eyes bright.

Frederick chuckled, grateful Will hadn’t pulled away. He thumbed the neck of his beer, sketchbook forgotten as he leaned on a hand to watch Will worm his fingers into the wool again. He found it incredibly comforting, almost as if he was doing it himself. Snapping out of his trance, he began rummaging in his bag again, finally pulling out a small tin. He looked up, eyeing the leaves swirling on the ground.

“I should have rolled one of these before we left,” He murmured, shaking the tin lightly and listening for the weed and papers inside. “It’s not as though I didn’t have plenty of time…” He muttered into his scarf, still feeling sore about acting like a lovesick puppy, although it had certainly paid off. He turned to Will, inspecting his large coat as an idea came to him.

“Hey, come here a minute. Lift your coat up- like a wall, please?”

Will tilted his head, looking for all the world like a confused puppy. Moving closer, he gripped the edges of his coat and did as told.

Frederick shifted into the cover provided by Will’s jacket, their knees brushing as he straddled the bench and laid the open tin on the wood and began to carefully roll a spliff for them to smoke. It was much quieter in here, an entirely different world where all Frederick could smell was his own cologne and the earthy smell of clay still lingering underneath Will’s fingernails. 

Will grinned, watching as Frederick’s talented fingers quickly rolled the joint. “I’ve always been useless at that,” he mused, quite taken in by his roommate’s dexterity. “You’d think I’d be better, with how often I do fine detailing on my pieces…” Once Frederick was done he wrapped the coat back around himself, making a conscious choice not to move back to his original seat. He could feel the heat of Frederick’s body, longed to press into it and steal some of his warmth.

Setting his beer down, he slid his sketchbook over. “We should get a table,” he mused. “For the kitchen. I never see you eat, you need to just eat with me when I cook.” He felt the strong urge to provide for Frederick, to pry into his life and make sure his was taking decent care of himself. Part of it was due to his strong affection towards the other boy, but even before the attraction took seed he’d worried about him. It felt so long ago now, those summer months when they barely said two words to each other and Will felt like he was living alone.

With a grin that just seemed to never fade, Frederick offered the joint to Will, placing it carefully between his parted lips. He fished his lighter out of his pocket and leaned forward, staring intently as he lit a furnace evenly at the widest part. Another perfectly rolled joint. There was a part of him that eagerly wanted to impress Will, who was wildly gifted and talented and interesting and whom Frederick constantly compared himself to. But somewhere along the line the vision had begun to change. Now he didn’t see them as separate. Now there was strength to be found if they stuck together. He didn’t have to think of himself as lesser. Inevitably, he would, but his appreciation for Will had grown into adoration and _want_. Whenever Will made an effort to be with him, it just seemed easier to believe he was valuable, capable, desirable. 

“Well,” Frederick sighed happily, leaning one arm on the table, “it sounds like a good arrangement to me. What can I provide? Tell me?” His fingers inched across the table, sliding over Will’s sketchbook and pulling it towards him. Everyone they went to school with was used to it. Seeing another’s sketchbook, and having an intense desire to know them by flipping through it. The ritual of asking, if it was okay, to see what was inside. It was personal, after all, but it was so amazing to see someone’s inside thoughts and experiments and ideas that it was a mighty need that they all shared.

His eyes flicked from the book to Will, a silent question on his face as he thumbed the binding.

Will inhaled deeply, nodding as he held the smoke in his lungs. He was impressed by the quality of Frederick's weed; the flavor of this particular joint was floral and fruity, nothing like the shit he smoked with Alana when they were relaxing in her backyard. He watched with anxiety as Frederick opened the book, wondering what he'd think of Will's work. 

Inside was an explosion of shapes, swirls and jagged edges and harsh lines drawn on page after page. A pattern became evident in the first few sketches; Will had a tendency to draw hulking monsters, wicked things with sharp, twisting antlers and jagged teeth. Every now and then there would be a sporadic life drawing, Alana reading on her couch, the squirrel that hung out in their backyard where Will religiously fed him scraps of his breakfast, or Will's feet hanging off the edge of the couch. The predominant theme, though, was monsters. 

"I promise, I'm not a wannabe Tim Burton," he said timidly. 

Frederick ran his fingers reverently over the pages, taking his time with each page. The monsters were coming towards him, almost as though they were running out of the page. Will had managed to capture the depth of field very well, and Frederick felt a shiver of fear settle pleasantly in his stomach. Each of the monsters, even the ones that were the most simple, with basic lines, half-finished sketches with no bodies, made him delightfully frightened. Will captured the creeping, massive quality of the creatures with simple expressive lines for their muscles, high shoulders and arms drawn quickly, long dark torsos and proud necks stretching into long faces and a forest of antlers.

“Incredible…” He murmured, finally coming to a blank page. “May I?” He asked, picking up his pen and uncapping it.

Will's face split into a wide grin. It was a great sign of trust, letting someone draw in your sketch pad. It mingled two styles, two personalities that might clash terribly. Stomach twisting pleasantly, he nodded. 

"Have at it." 

Glowing, Frederick took his pigma pen and began to draw his own monster. It was a tall bird, draped in a long cape of scaley feathers, it's claws just visible extending from under the cloak. It was lithe and boney, but the shiny fabric hanging from its shoulders was drawn in pleasing curves, softening the entire thing. It stood on two long human feet, set wide apart, and it was looking over its shoulder with an unreadable expression. The heavy chains around its neck seemed to clink and jangle.

Frederick took the spliff from Will's outstretched hand, replacing it with the sketchbook as he lifted himself to lay on the table.

"I love your style." He said after a moment, looking up into the canopy of the trees as smoke drifted from his parted lips.

Will beamed, glowing at the praise. "I love yours." Frederick's textures were so vivid, he felt like he could touch the drawing and feel all the different grains under his fingertips. It delighted him in ways he rarely experienced with art. 

Closing the sketchbook, he grinned and held his hand out expectantly. "Your turn." 

Feeling above his head for the book, Frederick's fingers finally closed around it and he slid it across the table to Will. Sharing and touching and leaving gifts for one another- this was more than Frederick had ever hoped for. This easy dance they were developing had been unfathomable only a few short weeks ago, when Frederick had watched Will out of the corner of his eye and been silently envious and hollow.

Now they were smiling openly, finally able to hold eye contact and touch one another. Frederick felt like he could share some parts of himself with his roommate and that instead of falling on deaf ears it might grow and become something more, a webbing like knitwork between them. Content, he shut his eyes and allowed himself to feel the sun and the breeze and smell the autumn air.

Will took the book, turning the pages reverentially. The patterns and images were so perfect, so detailed. He gently ran his fingers over a page, half expecting the sketch to feel slick and alive. Frederick definitely had an eye for the fine details, the things that truly brought the images off the page. 

"You're incredible," Will breathed, blushing. "Do you ever sculpt? I feel like you'd be incredible at it."

Beaming with the praise, Frederick leaned in to nip the spliff from Will’s fingers. It was almost burnt out, and he took a few last tight puffs before stubbing it out on the wood.

“Yeah I like sculpting, too. Unfortunately, the clay makes my fingers really tough and dry and then the wool keeps catching on them.” He laughed, rubbing his fingers together. “It makes knitting with finer fibres a huge hassle.”

They spent most of the afternoon and evening like that, sharing stories, drawing for each other, studying each other with mounting admiration. By the time night fell Will was sensationally buzzed and sensationally tipsy. He watched as Frederick collected everything into his bag, glasses skewed and eyes glassy.

“This was good. This was really good,” he said, grinning as he swiped some hair out of his eyes. At Frederick’s returned smile he beamed a little brighter, hopping off of the picnic table and beginning to slowly follow him down the esker, much less graceful than when they’d arrived. Each step was a stumble, but he didn’t really mind. Especially as they both kept grabbing on to each other for support, grinning stupidly each time.

The trip home was slow going, but soon they arrived to the lovely warmth of the house they rented. Will made surprisingly short work of getting the lights on, grabbing a handful of blankets and immediately making a cocoon of warmth on the couch. Surrounded by heaping piles of overstuffed fabrics, he peaked out and grinned drunkenly. “It’s warm in heeere,” he cooed in a sing-song voice. “Come and join meeee…”

Frederick returned with two glasses of water and set them on the coffee table before hoisting Will’s legs ups and settling underneath them. They’d gotten incredibly cozy over the course of the afternoon, and hammered as well. It didn’t feel weird at all now to snuggle down into the blankets and rest his heavy head on Will’s arm.

“M’tired…” he mumbled, turning his face into the fabric as all the tension melted away.

“Yep,” Will agreed, blinking owlishly behind the thick frames of his glasses. He tugged them off, tossing them carelessly on the coffee table. Letting his head fall to the side, he let his cheek rest against Frederick’s wind swept hair.

“Today was good,” he slurred. “Thanks for today.” With a happy little him he turned slightly, kissing Frederick’s forehead.

Frederick gave a tired chuckle, already half-asleep. His hand snaked down and when he found Will’s, interlocked their fingers and squeezed.

“You’re a fine fellow… a fine, fine fellow...” he whispered, voice trailing off as sleep took him and his full weight settled against Will’s shoulder.

Will looked down at Frederick’s face, huffing a soft laugh as he noted the other boy had fallen asleep. He nuzzled his nose into expertly distressed hair, breathing in the scent of gel and cologne, heart somehow heavy and light all at once.

“Night, Frederick.” With a happy little hum Will cuddled closer to him, letting the heavy weight of sleep pull him under.


	4. Chapter 4

The smell of burning leaves was thick in the air as Frederick made his way up from the dock. His free afternoon had been spent sketching by the water, and he’d filled a few pages with interesting patterns and ideas about how he could incorporate new fibres into his side-pieces. The town at this time of year was particularly inspiring, as the forest eased from greens to various shades of golds and reds that sparkled and set off the deep blue of the lake. It made Frederick think of supernatural creatures; sirens sliding out of the water to seduce him from the small round boulders by the lake, colossus slowly moving around the lookout at the top of the esker, scattering crows into the twilight. 

This was Frederick’s favourite time of year; the most rousing, the most energizing and enjoyable. In the past couple years this was when he’d gotten the most and best work done, and he knew by now to make the most of it. He often stayed on campus for studio time right up until ten o’clock when they kicked everyone out. That was his plan for the evening: pop on his headphones and work on some of the more intricate metal knick-knacks he’d been collecting for the smaller textile pieces.

It was on his way back up to the studio that he saw Will, sitting with Beverly Katz out on the concrete patio, admiring some of the bisqued pieces that had come out of the kiln that morning. In the past month Will had taken to spending many of his free Thursday afternoons with Frederick, so it was with a bit of relief that Frederick approached them, secretly eager to see what had kept Will from sticking to their typical rendezvous time. It had only been an unspoken kind of arrangement, and Frederick didn’t feel comfortable asking; though he had felt heavy with Will’s absence.

Will was in the middle of listening to Beverly muse over some of the pieces, eyes wide behind his glasses as he examined everything. He’d always loved the look of pottery fresh out of the kiln-the bisque was rough and raw before glazing, a sandy reddish-gray as it waited for paint. His own piece was tucked in the back, harsh and conspicuous among the smoother looking cups and bowls it had been fired with. It was intentional; he’d started with a normal looking vase, smooth and tall with a long neck and slightly flared mouth. Once it was perfect he went to work, constructing a labyrinth of vines and brambles around it. It looked uninviting, like one would bleed if they dared to touch it. It was just as he imagined it.

“I don’t know, how many times can they make the same salad bowl?” Beverly said, sounding forlorn.

“Don’t be so critical,” Will said softly, laughing. “Using a wheel is a lot more difficult than it looks, especially if you’re aiming for perfect symmetry.” He looked up, unable to hide the way his body language changed when he noticed Frederick. He stood a little taller, smiled a little wider. “Hey! How was sketching?”

Finally coming to stand beside them, Frederick was barely able to contain his grin. He managed to tamp it down, affecting a serene disposition. He eyed Will’s piece, eager to touch it.

“Productive.” Frederick informed him, feeling the weight of his work in his sketchbook. He nodded towards Will’s vase, hiding behind the other simple and demure cups and bowls.

“Very intricate work, Will. Are you going to colour or glaze it?” He asked, imagining it with the dark shadows of dry-brushed glaze bringing the vines to life. He sat next to Will on the edge of the concrete, flashing Beverly a brief smile, though once it had come it was hard to get rid of and he was left pursing his lips as he caught Will’s eyes.

Will studied the piece, tilting his head to the side as he imagined the work he had left to do on it. He bumped his knee lightly against Frederick’s, an affectionate gesture. “Mhm, I have a lot of work left on it, actually. The base is going to to be close to the color of the bisque, more of a bone ivory though. The thorns and vines are going to look at natural as possible.”

“That’ll look excellent,” Beverly nodded. She leaned forward, looking at Frederick across the boy between them. “We’re going to have a little picnic in the woods. Jimmy and Zeller are going to meet us there, and another guy I don’t know that well. Care to join us?”

Will looked to Frederick expectantly. “You should come, I made a ton of food. You left without taking your lunch today, you’re probably starving.” It had been a habit lately for him to have a lunch packed for Frederick, waiting for him next to the coffee pot. 

Frederick flushed a little to realize Will was keeping an eye on him. He nodded, secretly very pleased to be invited with Will despite his aversion to meeting new people. It might be nice to hear what some of the other students were working on. He glanced at his phone and stood, hiking his bag a little higher on his shoulder.

“I’ll bring refreshments.” He said, looking at Beverly. “What time?”

“Meet us at four,” she said, pleased that he’d accepted. She’d seen him around plenty, and had always been intrigued by his affect. “We want to be out in plenty of time to watch the sunset.”

“Make sure you wear a jacket,” Will said, pushing some curls out of his face. “It’s supposed to get pretty chilly tonight.” 

“We will, thank you mother,” Beverly cooed fondly, kissing his temple. Will made a face, pulling away from the touch. “You better show me the Dire Vase once it’s all painted.”

“I will,” he laughed, swatting her away. “See you later.” With a wave she stood, heading off to collect her friends for the meetup.

Will looked at Frederick, grinning. “Sorry. She’s kind of bold.”

Frederick shook his head, smiling at his feet. “She’s headstrong. It’s lovely, really.” They stood in silence a moment, enjoying the cool air and the smell of autumn, before Frederick remembered himself and made to go.

“I’m going to head off then, and I’ll be stopping off at home. Do you want me to grab you anything?” He could barely remember speaking this many words to anyone else since he’d been studying there, save presentations. For some reason he didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t have much time to head into town and back to campus.

Will smiled, shaking his head slightly. He was still staring at his piece, a look of complete calm on his face. He looked different. Relaxed. Almost...happy.

“No, I’m good,” he breathed. “I’m going to go for a walk, be with my thoughts for a little while. I’ll probably see you at the house, I have to get the food I made.” He stood, stretching. “Hey, do you have any free time tomorrow? I know we didn’t get any studio time in today, I was going to stop by before class in the morning.” He had an open, hopeful sort of expression on his face.

“Yeah. We’ll go in together.” Frederick answered without hesitation. Despite their growing closeness, they still never seemed to walk to school together, something that remained a mystery. He glanced at Will once more before heading into the building to collect his supplies.

 

Frederick arrived at the house laden with bags from the beer store. It was the least he could do; after all, it was such a pleasure to be invited to a small gathering. He generally stayed away by choice but he wanted to show Will he knew how to make friends and even be civil and charming. He left everything on the counter, and then headed for a shower, hoping he’d be ready to go by the time Will showed up.

Twenty minutes later Will came in, cheeks pink from the chill autumn air. His hair was thoroughly windswept, corduroy jacket pulled tight around his body. It was an old coat, something he’d found in a thrift shop once while driving through Alabama with his father. The fabric was a deep burgundy red, faded but somehow still plush looking. He wore it everywhere, despite it looking like something vaguely out of the Brady Bunch.

He made a quick trip to his room to change out of his clay-covered pants before heading to the kitchen, starting to pull things out of the fridge. He’d truly gone all out in his desire to impress his new friends. There were three different dips, a beautiful wheel of brie he’d gotten half-off by flirting with the boy at the deli counter (something he still felt guilty about, what would Frederick think?), and a tray of mini sandwiches he’s slaved over before cutting into precise little triangles. Resting everything on the counter, he started to dig for some way to transport all of it.

For a while he hadn’t really belonged, drifting around the school without anyone to look for, anyone to wave to or greet warmly in the hallways. Alana had quickly changed that, spotting him alone in the library one morning and asking to join. A few months later Beverly ran into him (literally) in their favorite coffee shop, and had taken him under her wing as she wiped coffee off of his sweater. Zeller and Jimmy came as part of a package deal, since they lived with Beverly a block over in a cozy but cramped apartment closer to town.

He had _friends_ now. He had to impress them.

Frederick emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, towel tightened low on his waist as he combed his wet hair back with his fingers. He heard Will in the kitchen, and stepped just inside, watching with his arms folded as Will bustled about. The food was organized and delicious-looking, perfectly domestic, and Frederick felt a small bit of shame for having not properly prepared anything to bring. He hoped they’d appreciate his offering anyway.

“Did you really get all of this together? You’re putting me to shame, Will.” He leaned against the doorframe, giving Will a raised eyebrow and watching the back of his head with a wry smile.

Will laughed slightly, finally locating a reusable shopping bag that would suffice. Nearly hidden among a jumble of tupperware under the sink, it had a flat bottom that would be perfect for transporting the food without tipping it over. “I had ample notice,” he said, back still to Frederick as he stood. “Beverly texted me at two in the morning last night. I don’t know if you heard me banging around down here, but that’s what I was doing. I got the cheese during my lunch break.”

He turned, breath catching in his throat as his eyes landed on Frederick. Naked save for a threadbare towel, rivulets of water sliding down the side of his neck, he looked like someone from one of the videos Will would watch late at night when he was lonely and needed some sort of release. All sorts of imagines flooded his mind, images that did no good in calming him down. He could see so clearly the way their limbs would look tangled together, the way Frederick’s lips would feel pressed against the delicate skin of his throat.

He was doomed.

Will cleared his throat awkwardly, blushing and busying himself with the food. “Anyway, you bought alcohol. That’s really the most important part of a gathering.”

“Not so,” Frederick murmured, snagging a tiny triangle sandwich and eating it in one bite, eyes glinting with mirth as he made a break for the stairs, his pace quick.

“Gimme five minutes!” He called, thumping loudly up the stairs. He tugged at the towel and threw it into the corner of his room as he began rummaging in his dresser for underwear. Hastily throwing on clothes, he took a minute to stare at himself in the mirror, zipping his fly and catching the reflection of his schoolwork glittering in the low sun. He had planned to work on it tonight but spending a bit more time with Will was worth it to set work aside for a bit.

He glanced back at himself, eyes anxious as he gave a few short tugs to his sweater and messed with his hair a bit. There wasn’t much else that could be done. 

Will looked up as Frederick returned, having given himself a moment to cool off. He fidgeted with the bottom of his jacket, tugging it down. “Are you ready?” he asked, managing an easy smile as he grabbed the bag. Once Frederick acquiesced he led him outside, struggling to get the key to turn in the lock. “We need some WD40,” he grunted, using two hands and jiggling a bit. The lock finally clicked, giving a pathetic rasp as it turned.

The two boys set off down the main road together, laden with bags as they walked. “It’s weird,” Will mused after a moment of silence. “Having friends. Doing things. I feel like I spent my entire first year sitting alone in my room planning out my projects.” 

“Have you always lived alone before now?” Frederick asked, kicking a stone into the road.

Will nodded, a stray curl falling over his eyes as he carefully chose his steps. He had never been particularly graceful, and more often than not stared at the ground whenever he walked. There were less chances to trip that way.

“Alone, even when I wasn’t,” he amended. “I used to rent from this old couple, a basement apartment. It had its own kitchen and an outside entrance, so I never really saw them. Which was good, I tend to be on the reclusive side.”

Frederick took a moment to admire Will’s profile; the set of his jaw, the way his glasses slipped down his nose. As they turned off the road and began to take the steps down towards the small ravine, he focused again on his footing as they carefully clamoured down the flat stones and through the muddy path that led to a small, secluded deck overhanging the stream. Beverly was already waiting for them, and rushed over to take Frederick’s bags. Behind her were a small handful of other students, people Frederick recognized and had even spoken to on occasion. 

Helping Will unpack his food onto the benches, Frederick made a quick sweep of the others. He recognized the cheerful but slightly sardonic photography student, Jimmy Price, who had sandy blond hair and a very wide smile. Especially aware of this fact was Brian Zeller, a snarky man always sporting a wry smile, and whom Frederick always caught staring at the blond photographer. Zeller, despite his rough exterior and not-quite-welcoming personality, excelled in the jewelry-making program at school. His fingers, rough but dexterous, could create a multitude of beautiful pieces. One of which sat on Jimmy’s right thumb, a simple silver band with the initials “BZ” carved into it. 

No-one asked them about it, Jimmy would just smirk and Brian would make some gruff comment about how obvious it was. They were sitting close now, knees just barely brushing. Frederick turned his attention back to Will only to find his help wasn’t needed. Feeling a little useless, he hopped up onto the railing and lit a cigarette, hoping Will would find a way to help him out of his shell.

Will looked around at everyone, unable to help the small smile that graced his lips. He had done it, with Beverly’s help he had put something together. For the first time he felt like he was getting the real college experience; it made him feel warm, accomplished. “Okay. So I know most of us kind of know each other,” he said, fighting the urge to retreat behind the more talkative attendees. “But um, just in case, I’m Will, and this is my roommate Frederick.” He shot a quick glance to Frederick, offering a shy smile.

Beverly watched Will, an odd sort of pride filling her as he spoke up first. “And they’re both totally great. Just in case you guys haven’t met them, Jimmy Price, Brian Zeller, and someone else will be joining us soon.”

“New student, just came here from like...Denmark or something?” Brian said, looking to Jimmy for backup. “Sweden? Romania? The ice planet Hoth?”

Frederick frowned, immediately aware of whom they were speaking. He’d already had one encounter with the man. He had come from money, that much had been clear. He seemed exceptionally polite and thoughtful at first glance, but to Frederick he gave off the air of being incredibly judgmental. Frederick wasn’t sure he could blame him, but it was the nature of the man’s scrutiny that had set Frederick on edge. When he’d complimented Frederick’s work, he’d done so in a roundabout way and with a patronizing tone. He’d walked away with a self-satisfied smile, and Frederick had spent the rest of his studio time feeling bristly and unable to work.

“Hannibal Lecter.” He offered, reaching past Will to grab a beer. “He’s in the painting and drawing program. He mentioned he was working towards the Emily Carr transfer course.” And likely off to Paris after that, Frederick mused. The man was incredibly talented, at least from what Frederick had seen of his paintings. They were large and grim, but stunningly beautiful.

“And he’s Lithuanian,” Beverly said pointedly, looking at Brian. “Maybe don’t suggest he’s a Star Wars alien when he gets here.”

Brian shrugged, sipping his beer. “I’m unconcerned. Do I look unconcerned? Jimmy, do I look sufficiently unconcerned?”

Beverly ignored him, looking over the spread Frederick and Will had provided. “Damn, you two went all out. This is like, a feast to art students.” She grabbed a beer, finding a spot to perch next to Frederick. “Been working on anything cool lately?” she asked, bumping her elbow lightly against Frederick’s hip.

“Yes, but he won’t tell you what,” Will teased. “He’s working on something amazing, and I’m not even allowed to see it.”

Frederick rolled his eyes, hiding a small smile. “Yes, but you see _parts_ of it.” He nudged Will teasingly with his knee before turning back to Beverly. “Just some entrelac work with some of the hand-dyed stuff you’ve probably seen hanging outside. You dye it in the sunlight, so thats pretty neat.” He looked behind her, his smile growing. “I see you’ve brought your sketchbook- can I?” There was something about her that made Frederick open up. Most people didn’t get nearly as many words out of him.

“As long as you don’t mind a bunch of mindless bullshit,” she laughed, passing the pad over. “That one is just my boredom book. I hate lectures, doodling helps me focus.” 

As Frederick began flipping through he heard the crunching of approaching footsteps, of expensive shoes walking over fallen leaves. An amused looking man with high cheekbones and neatly styled hair walked up, hands clasped politely behind his back. “Beverly, I apologize for being so late.”

“Oh! Don’t worry,” she said, giving a little wave. “Come, sit, make yourself comfortable. Guys, this is Hannibal. Hannibal, we have Brian, Frederick, Jimmy, and Will. These two are roommates, also they’re to thank for the food and booze.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Hannibal said with a nod, eyes warm as he moved around to shake everyone’s hands. When he reached Will he took his hand with a particular grace, touching him a bit longer than everyone else. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around campus...Will, is it?”

Will nodded, blushing at the attention. “I tend to hide, so I’m not shocked.” He already felt pinned by Hannibal’s eyes, heart giving an anxious _thud_ in his chest.

Frederick watched their exchange from the corner of his eye, flipping pages and trying to keep his attention on Beverley’s work, which was absolutely incredible. She even _doodled_ with confidence. She would definitely go far. Once again he felt a sting of envy, but it wasn't hard to let it go. There was just something more tolerable about artists who were supremely talented but also supremely _humble_.

“You can usually find him wandering the forest.” Frederick offered, eyes still on the book. After a moment he shut it, staring down at Hannibal from his perch on the railing. He did want to ask the man more about his work, despite the uncomfortable feeling that was crawling under his skin. He tilted his head at the other man, studying him.

“I’ve gotten to see a bit of your work, Hannibal. I’ve seen you painting in the evenings…” He wasn’t sure what else to say. It was unclear if telling the other man that his work made Frederick uncomfortable would be a triumph or a disappointment for this strange man.

Will shifted slightly, Frederick’s discomfort having a fast effect on him. “You paint?”

“I do,” Hannibal said, the picture of humility. “I work mostly in oils, although I do like to bring an aspect of performance art with each of my pieces.” He turned, quirking an eyebrow. “Frederick, is it? What was it you work in? Textiles?”

“Yes,” Will cut in eagerly. “And he’s amazing. Well, I assume he’s amazing, I’m not allowed to see his pieces until they’re fully finished, so…” He turned to his roommate, grinning and shaking his head.

“Fascinating,” Hannibal said blandly. “Will, what is it _you_ do?”

As the new addition interviewed Will, Brian gestured Frederick over with a tilt of his head. He grinned when he came over, making a show of offering Frederick the joint he had just rolled. “I’m not the only one who thinks this dude’s pretentious as hell, am I?” he said, voice low. He ignored the chastising look Jimmy gave him, meeting it with a roguish wink before turning back to Frederick. “He blew you right off.”

“Not the first time,” Frederick nodded, taking a couple puffs before passing it back. His voice was slightly muffled with smoke as he continued. “Doesn’t think highly of me, but it seems _someone’s_ caught his eye.” He shared a smirk with Brian, and he secretly decided to tease Will about it later. It was clear the attention was making Will uncomfortable, but he was handling it well. Frederick told himself he didn’t feel jealous. He couldn’t, really. He’d lusted after the boy for so long, but had never even made an attempt to _flirt_ with him. He had no claim over his roommate.

“Beverly, these are fantastic, as always.” He handed the book back to her. “Don’t be so humble. Maybe I’ll have you ink me someday, hmm?” He leaned in a little and gave her a curious look. “Have you been experimenting on the oranges? I always heard thats what trainees do?” While she was currently training in the illustration track, her ultimate goal was to become a tattoo artist.

“I did one entirely in paisley last week,” Beverly confirmed. “It was amazing, I love the feel of the gun. As soon as I’m allowed, I’m putting ink on one of you, so everyone start thinking of ideas.” She picked up one of the little sandwiches Will had made, taking a bite. “Man for being a fancy cucumber sandwich? This is amazing. Remind me to tell Will after Hannibal proposes.”

Brian snorted out a laugh, coughing around the smoke in his lungs. “Don’t, fucking don’t,” he laughed, thwacking a hand hard against his chest. 

Jimmy clucked his tongue, rubbing Brian’s back. “For being high ninety-percent of the time, you sure are bad at smoking,” he fussed as Brian continued to laugh and choke.

“I can’t help it, blame her,” Brian grinned, eyes watering as he jutted his chin towards Beverly. “Are you going to smoke?”

“No. No I am not,” Jimmy said firmly. “Because last time we were both high? You locked us out of the house and we had to break the door down the next morning.” He grimaced, recalling the night all too well. “I am going to remain sober so none of us can do anything intensely stupid.”

Frederick pursed his lips at Jimmy. “Well at least youre looking after him...” He smiled, glancing back at Will, who seemed to have recoiled slightly on the bench as Hannibal loomed over him. “Do you think its my job as roommate to save the poor bastard?” He locked eyes with the other three in turn, and they all nodded, holding back their laughs. 

“Try to be polite!” Beverly warned, but there was mirth in her voice. He grinned at her, and slapping his knee, hopped down to sit by Will with arms crossed. Hannibal was relating something to Will with great enthusiasm...as much as he seemed capable of mustering, anyway.

“All emotions have a place in our work, Will. Even the ones we do not understand…” He glanced at Frederick briefly. “Feelings of fear, inadequacy, and failure are just as important discourse as triumph, possession and power.” His eyes shone darkly down at Frederick, and mystified by the cheeky behaviour, Frederick eased back and glanced to Will, raising his eyebrows. Frederick couldn’t hide his grin: this guy really was too much.

“I’m sure Will understands that every emotion has a place in our work… you said you haven’t noticed him around, but have you seen his pieces yet? He expresses himself with a clarity many artists struggle to manage, myself included.” Frederick wasn’t sure why he was bothering to say a word to this insulting idiot. Again, he didn’t often waste words, but here he was defending Will, who really didn’t need defending. The quality of his work was clear to everyone, likely most of all Hannibal. Where had this small ball of fury and possessiveness come from?

Will had turned roughly the color of a chili pepper, unused to being praised in such a manner. He snaked his hand closer to Frederick, his pinky just barely inching closer to touch his leg. That miniscule touch, so inconspicuous, was a lifeline to him.

Hannibal gave Frederick a disdainful look, turning back to Will. “I’m eager to see it, then. Will you show me some time?”

Will gave a small nod, unsure of what else to say. “Sure, of course. Do you have a Facebook? I have a whole album-full of photos of my work.”

Hannibal laughed lightly. “No, I tend to look down on social media. I’d much rather you show me yourself, there’s something to be said for human interaction, don’t you think?”

“Of course,” Will said, swallowing hard. 

Meeting Hannibal's eyes defiantly, Frederick turned his body towards Will. When had he become such a hothead? He normally refused to let anything faze him, and even in the dramatic and charged atmosphere of arts school he had done a pretty good job. He supposed it didn't help that Hannibal was being so painfully rude, whilst pretending there was nothing amiss. He clearly believed he was more clever than everyone around him, but his logic was critically flawed.

Hannibal offered Frederick one last withering look before wandering off to simper over the others. Frederick sighed and finished his beer. He reached down and grabbed two, passing one to Will before he closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the railing.

"Whoops," he sighed, taking a decent glug and tilting his head to Will with a small smirk.

Will gave a small choking laugh, trying to hide it as a cough. Opening his beer, he took a long, steadying drink. “Thanks,” he whispered after swallowing. “I just...he seems nice enough, but he stood too close, you know?” Will shook his head, looking long-suffering. “It’s a...thing I have. I have a problem with strangers getting too close to my face.” 

It was actually one of many problems Will had: that was life on the spectrum. He didn’t want to say too much though, didn’t want Frederick to think he was crazy. Or worse-looking for attention. The diagnoses had come when he was thirteen. His father had been perfectly happy to ignore his son’s troubles in public, ignore the way he suffered through school and social situations. There was a guidance counselor though, Dr. Crawford...she had insisted on having Will tested. Then had come the therapy, then the special classes, and plenty of disdain from his father who demanded that he needed to just snap out of it.

He did okay, though. Especially now, out of the judgemental house he grew up in. Still, it was nice to have someone to stick up for him.

“Thanks, by the way,” he said, blushing. “For what you said about my work.”

Pulling a leg up onto the bench, Frederick turned to face Will properly, resting his chin on a fist. His roommate looked genuinely pleased by his words. Their eyes locked briefly before Frederick had to look away, focusing on the hand that had been so near to him earlier. He watched as Will’s fingers continued to idly stroke through the condensation on the glass of the beer bottle.

“I just thought it was obvious. He seems perceptive. Like a man with good taste. “ Frederick made a face at that. It didn’t account for the man’s personality. “Thought he would have picked up on your work by now. He’s smitten with you, if it isn’t obvious.” He kicked Will lightly, eyes teasing as he hid his smirk behind his beer.

“Oh God,” Will snorted, looking positively miserable at the idea. “I hope not, I don’t need that sort of attention from him.” He glanced over, watching as Beverly and Jimmy discussed something with Hannibal, looking animated. “Everyone else seems to like him. Maybe it’s us?”

He was silent for a moment before laughing. “Naaah it’s not us.”

 

Tickling the edge of his consciousness, Frederick felt the brief panic that often came from being startled into awareness. His hand immediately shot out to silence his phone, but drowsily he realized the house was silent, and his phone was quiet, screen showing **3:40**. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up , leaning on an arm and listening. There was nothing, no deer outside, no uncommon noises indoors besides the drone of the fridge downstairs. Not amused, he was just about to flop back onto the pillows when he heard it- clear as day in the otherwise noiseless home. Soft and drawn out was Will’s voice, pulling Frederick to listen with a pained cry. It reverberated up the stairs and filled Frederick’s room.

Colouring, he wondered if he was catching Will doing something they both normally did very quietly. He allowed himself a moment to listen again, hearing Will’s broken voice as it became a choked sob. Immediately Frederick was on his feet, nervous and worried as he grabbed a shirt and pulled it on. As he thumped quietly down the stairs he hoped he wasn’t intruding on something personal. Regardless he felt duty bound to investigate, and he gathered his wits as he moved down the hall to press an ear against Will’s door.

He listened a moment, hearing the same panicked wail as before, and fear gripped his heart as he called out, gently rapping on the door. There was no response: Will’s voice just seemed to carry on uninterrupted. Anxious, Frederick pushed open the door a crack and peered inside. Will was curled up on the mattress, body wracking with shivers as his voice seemed to grow in volume. Frederick closed the door behind him and came to stand beside the bed, hands out before him and he struggled helplessly to decide what to do. Finally he placed a hand on Will’s shoulder and rubbed, but there was no response. Will instead seemed to curl tighter, his cries becoming more anguished and hoarse.

Pulled into action, Frederick climbed into the bed, heart racing as he pulled the other boy to his chest. Will was soaked with sweat and frozen, quaking in Frederick’s arms as he tried to carefully pull the boy from sleep with quiet words and a soothing hand in his hair.

“Come on now, it’s only me. I’m right here…”

Will thrashed against the intrusion, finally jerked out of sleep at a real, solid form in the bed. His head shot up, looking for all the world like a trapped animal. His hair was slick with sweat, stuck to his forehead and temples, eyes wide and glassy in the dark of the bedroom. Shaking limbs scrambled to wrap around Frederick, immediately clinging to him like a lifeline.

He gave a broken, pathetic sob, hiding his face against the other boy’s neck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he moaned, trembling. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, they usually aren’t so bad…”

He could still feel the adrenaline coursing, sharp and tangible as his mind attempted to recover from the nightmare. Every shadow seemed to press in, reach for him in the dark. The only thing he could think to do was press tighter into Frederick, cling to him and hide from the fear. Managing a deep breath, he took in the clean smell of Frederick’s body wash, the underlying scent of his skin. It soothed him, brought him back to the present. This was real, he was alright. Swallowing hard, he looked miserably up at his roommate. “Sorry…”

Tightening his arms around the other boy, Frederick tucked his head back down and ran fingers through the curls to push them back from Will’s face. “Shhh, don’t worry. Christ, Will, don’t worry.” He tucked his chin against Will’s hair, feeling a racing heart hammering against his own chest. He continued to shush and pet his shaking roomate, the panic beginning to recede now that Will was awake.

“Night terrors…” He murmured, running his hands over Will’s back to try and encourage him to relax. “Do you get them often?” How long had Will been experiencing these on his own? How many times had he been like this without anyone to wake up to?

Will let out a shaking breath, trying to focus on the firm palm sliding over his t-shirt. Frederick was grounding him, bringing him back so much faster than he’d be able to manage on his own. Closing his eyes, Will pondered the question. 

“A couple times a week?” he mused, swallowing hard. “It’s not always like this, and I don’t always remember them. Most of the time I know because I wake up a lot sweatier than I normally would.” He slid his hand up Frederick’s back, grasping his shoulder tightly. “Tonight...tonight was intense. It was much more vivid than normal. I could almost feel it, you know?”

Burying his face in Frederick’s neck, he sighed deeply. “I don’t know. Maybe the anxiety of my workload is getting to me, but it doesn’t seem all that bad really. Not bad enough to make the dreams worse, at least.” His breath huffed lightly over Frederick’s skin, stirring over a bare shoulder. Normally being this close to Frederick would be its own source of anxiety, but he needed him so badly that it didnt occurred to him to be shy. He felt protected.

Frederick nodded, skin prickling as he became aware of their closeness, the way they were pressed flush, legs tangled. He colored slightly, feeling annoyed by his mind’s ability to wander despite the circumstances. He sighed, trying to relax and hoping Will would feel inspired to do the same.

“You’ve been in the studio right till close pretty much every night, Will.” He chastised, though his tone was gentle as he locked his hands behind Will’s back. “You’ll tell me if there anything I can do? _Anything._ ” He felt horrible to discover this had been going on for so long and he hadn’t noticed. He was a notoriously deep sleeper. Perhaps he ought to consider becoming more acquainted with the couch downstairs. He normally wouldn’t bat an eye to discover that a stranger was going through troubled times. But Will wasn’t a stranger. He’d carefully wormed his way into Frederick’s heart. He knew just how far he’d gotten too, because Frederick could feel the remnant aches of it as the panic and worry subsided.

Will nodded, breath finally regulating in his chest. He pressed his forehead to Frederick’s skin, finally letting himself recall the remnants of the dream. “It’s so stupid, it’s such a common dream, you know? Being chased. But for some stupid reason my brain just takes off with it.” He sat up a bit, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand and shoving them on. He wasn’t likely to get much more sleep that night. “It used to be people chasing me. Without faces, you know? No one specific. But lately it’s been these.. _.creatures_. Giant, hulking, completely awful.” He stared absently at Frederick’s skin, eyes dull. “It was almost this giant... _stag_ I guess. Massive antlers. Only it was covered in black feathers.”

He flopped back, groaning. “I’m so fucking neurotic. Seriously, what grown adult is afraid of monsters? This is so stupid.”

Will’s body moving away from his felt like a startling loss, and Frederick crossed his arms to try and retain some of the heat. He tried to imagine what Will was describing to him, tried to put himself in front of such a beast. In his mind, it towered over him, and its breathe was loud through the large nostrils. Frederick made a face.

“That’s why they’re monsters. They scare us. Theres nothing strange about that, Will.” Frederick wasn’t sure he’d be of much use. He didn’t know what Will found in his dreams, what purpose they served, so it felt wrong to tell him they didn’t mean anything.

“Do they affect you constantly, even when you’re not sleeping?” He eyed Will sideways on the bed, wishing the other boy would just slide back over where he belonged. Frederick was much better at comforting through touch. He was remarkably inelegant when speaking, and it was the main reason he was usually so quiet in public. But touch was much easier to communicate with. He longed to spread relief across Will’s skin, to help calm his frantic heart.

“Depends on how tired I am. I’m not necessarily scared during the day, but that feeling of unrest sticks around for a while.” He sat up, running his fingers through his hair. “I know this is maybe a lot to ask, and it’s probably pretty weird...but can you stay?” He looked almost scared of the answer. “I know it’s weird, I’m sorry if I sound crazy. I just really don’t want to be alone right now.”

In a moment of sheer desperation he moved in close, once more wrapping his arms around Frederick’s waist.

Taken aback, Frederick was surprised by the relief that coursed through him. “Yes, of course.” He murmured, resting his chin atop Will’s head again. Tentatively his own arms wrapped around Will’s shoulders and he relaxed into the pillows. He was sure Will could feel his heart hammering through his chest, but there was nothing to be done for it so he tried to collect himself, for Will’s sake.

“Try to get some sleep,” He whispered, leaning back and plucking Will’s glasses from the bridge of his nose with two fingers. He placed them on the nightstand before reaching down to grab the sheets and pull them up around their waists. Will was going to get a cold like this if he didn’t warm up. “We’re going in early remember? You asked me.”

“Mm I know, I know, don’t remind me,” Will groaned, once more burying his face against Frederick’s skin. He took a deep breath, willing his limbs to relax. It took a moment, but he could finally feel the tension and worry starting to release from his muscles.

Closing his eyes, he tried not to think too deeply about what this all meant. There would be time for questions later. For now he had the warmth of Frederick’s body, the protection of his arms wrapped tight around Will’s body, and the knowledge that for once, someone _cared_.


	5. Chapter 5

Will looked at the block of wood in his hand, appreciating the weight and swiping his thumb over the side to explore the texture. He’d never been much good at whittling; it felt so supremely archaic, something toothless men did while sitting on their porches and drinking moonshine. He’d escaped the south running and screaming, he didn’t have much desire to bring the culture with him. 

Yet here he was, wood in one hand, pocket knife in the other. A piece of sandpaper was laid out over his knee, waiting patiently for the chance to smooth and polish and perfect Will’s work.

Flipping the knife open, he examined the wood before smoothly cutting a sliver away. It curled eagerly, falling into the leaves surrounding him. He’d picked a perfect day to do this; the woods were blessedly empty, no one getting drunk or high or making out to disturb him. The air was cool and clear; he’d swiped a black hoodie from Frederick’s laundry, bundling into it instead of his usual burgundy jacket. He felt warm, satisfied. His heart was full in a way he couldn’t quite explain, leaving him with a pleasant feeling that reached all the way to his toes. With a small sigh he sliced another piece away, blowing gently to remove it from the block.

His night had been surprisingly dreamless, leading to one of the best mornings he’d had since coming to Canada. It didn’t hurt that he woke up wrapped in Frederick’s arms, their bodies twined together like lovers. The thought made his heart twitch firmly in his chest. This was slowly becoming something they would have to talk about, this comfort and camaraderie they had forged. For some odd reason he wasn’t scared. Frederick had willingly climbed into bed, held him close and soothed his fears. Frederick had stuck up for him in awkward situations that Will would usually shrink from. Frederick praised his art, praised his cooking, praised his clothes, praised every small thing Will did… maybe, just maybe, he had reason to hope?

It had been two weeks since that first night, that moment where Frederick had slid into bed to soothe him. Two weeks and they had continued to sleep together at night, pressed together and at peace. Two weeks was a long time to nest with someone you felt nothing for… wasn’t it?

Gaining confidence, he allowed himself to cut away larger and larger pieces, the block of wood starting to roughly take on the shape he desired. His lips quirked into a smile, a genuine, happy smile.

A safe distance away sat Hannibal, perched on a rock with his sketchbook in hand. While it wasn’t entirely true to say he _hadn’t_ followed the boy, he liked to think he was just taking an opportunity to observe the boy, learn more about him from a distance. All the better to assess Will’s mood, and decide how best to present himself to the younger man. Will was tucked in against a large tree, finding pleasure in a very basal act. He was swathed in a sweater Hannibal immediately recognized as belonging not to Will, but to his loathsome roommate.

Hannibal’s mouth twitched, forming a hard line. Will seemed to be connecting to simpler, elementary emotions. Youth, love, togetherness. He’d be especially easy to lead, as long as Hannibal made sure to appeal to Will’s base needs. Appear honest, trustworthy and dependable. He stood, ruffling the perfect coif of his hair and undoing the top buttons of his crisp oxford. He began to approach, but stopped, thinking again. He roughly pinched his cheeks and ran his teeth over his lips, encouraging a healthy flush to his face. Will would respond better to a version of Hannibal that appeared fresh and lively.

More sure now of his presentation he closed in, making sure to rustle the leaves as he walked so Will would be alerted of his presence. It wouldn’t do to scare the boy.

“Hello, Will.” He put a serene edge to his voice, managing to sound only just-slightly breathless.

Will looked up, startled to hear his name. He’d been sitting alone for a decent amount of time and he’d gotten used to the simple sounds of nature. Seeing Hannibal, his cheeks immediately colored.

“Hannibal! Hi,” he stammered, eyes wide behind his glasses. Something like dread unfurled in the pit of his stomach. He knew Hannibal was popular, even with his small group of friends. He was undoubtedly handsome, especially in that moment with his flushed cheeks and disheveled appearance. There was something about those high cheekbones that made him look especially ethereal.

Still, Will preferred a different look. Shorter, a softer face, bigger, greener eyes.

Closing his knife, he smoothed his palms anxiously over the sweater. “Have you been running? Your cheeks are pink.”

Laughing politely, Hannibal folded his hands behind his back.

“Just the autumn air, I think. It looks as though you’re working on something interesting. Do you mind if I see?” He saw the apprehension in Will’s eyes and immediately took a step back, offering a friendly expression. “Only if you don’t mind. I apologize, I realize I may have come on a bit strong last time we met.” He tilted his head and looked down again, nodding to the object in Will’s hands. “Do you mind?” He asked gently.

Will studied him closely, gaze shy as he looked up from underneath his lashes. Hannibal did seem fairly different from their last encounter. More humble. He adjusted until he was sitting on his feet, tucking the pocket knife back into his jeans. “You can sit with me, if you’d like,” he said, absently running his fingers over the still-rough wood. “I haven’t gotten very far yet, I’m just trying to find my feet with wood carving.”

Once Hannibal joined him he held the piece out, letting it rest in his palms. The wood was a flawless basswood, the finish smooth with no knots or imperfections. Will had begun to carve the rough outline of an antler, each branch twisting out of the main body. About five inches long, it sat comfortably in his hand as he held it out to Hannibal.

“It’s part of a set of antlers,” he explained. “Once I get the basic shapes I’m going to sand them down and smooth them out, fix up the texture. I don’t know what I’m going to use them for yet, right now they’re just for practice.”

Eyebrows raised, Hannibal turned the piece over in his hands. The cuts had been rough and there hadn’t yet been much done to it, but Will knew his forms: the stick did indeed resemble the reaching half-cage of a set of antlers. Eyes gleaming, he handed it back to the boy.

“I’m certain it will add an air of strength.” He said evenly, watching Will turn the piece over in his hand.

“Perhaps you are busy… but I was wondering if I could see some of your work. I’ll admit, I did go looking on my own, but I didn’t want to upturn the kiln-room table to look for your signature.” He brushed his fingers through his hair and stood, trying to look at home in the orange glow of the woods. He offered a disarming smile, watching the way Will’s eyes followed his muscles shifting under the cotton of his t-shirt.

Will quickly looked back up, face coloring. “Oh! I mean, of course- if you’d like to see. I have a few pieces on the table and a few pieces tucked away in the studio while I work on them. We could walk over there now if you wanted, there shouldn’t be too many people there so we won’t be disturbing anyone…”

Despite their rough start Will began to relax. Everyone had been so indulgent over his work lately, it had definitely set him at ease and helped to boost his confidence.

They walked back through the woods in a comfortable silence. Hannibal took every subtle opportunity to watch Will in profile, studying his mannerisms and gauging his mood. Like most he liked to be complimented on his work, but Will was humble about it. Hannibal wondered at the potential of this boy, what he was capable of if Hannibal could shake the timidness from him. There was something following Will around, something that seemed to have him always set on edge. Despite his comfort amongst the trees Hannibal hadn’t missed the boy’s eyes constantly darting to the shadowed brush whenever they rounded a corner.

The studio was quiet as they stepped inside. There were a few students working on wheels and one glazing her pieces, but apart from them the room was thankfully empty. Hannibal paid them no mind, keeping close to Will’s side as they entered the kiln room.

“What inspires your work, Will?” he asked amicably as Will began to sort through some of the pieces on the table.

Will was silent for a moment, trying to pick out the most careful way of answering the question. Frederick finding out about his dreams had been a fluke, even if it had turned out so well. He usually kept them under wraps, living in fear that his friends might see him as too damaged to be worth the time and trouble. No one wanted to hang out with a charity case.

Still, Frederick had been so cool about all of it, so unfazed. It had _helped_ to tell him about the nightmares. What if telling Hannibal helped to relieve the pressure even more?

Taking a breath, he decided to go for it. “My dreams. Nightmares, actually. I’ve always had fairly staggering night terrors, ever since I was young. I can’t get them to go away, so I may as well confront them through my art.”

Eyes shining, Hannibal watched Will’s face intently. The darkness in Will’s work wasn’t by choice. It was buried _inside_ of him. This was a desperate attempt to let it escape, let it _out_. Hannibal could see Will felt comfort in it, was relieved to pull the dreams from his mind and make them physical. Once his hands had molded the nightmares, had created them, there was little point to fear them. He had power over them then. This boy was much more clever than he appeared. He just had so much talent he was _repressing_. 

“Can you tell me more about this one?” he asked, nodding to the piece in Will’s hands. 

Will took the piece in his hands, holding it delicately as he turned it this way and that to examine how it had survived the kiln. He’d spent a great deal of time on this particular piece. It was a head modeled after his own, possessing his same profile and mess of curls meticulously sculpted out of clay. The face was looking down, two hands (unattached except for the points they gripped the head) pulling the skull open. The expression on the face was oddly serene, contrasting the violence with which the figure was tearing itself open.

Once he was pleased with his inspection he held it close, looking shyly up at Hannibal. “It’s actually not finished yet. When it’s completely installed there will be a raven flying out of the skull, but it’ll be mounted from the ceiling with fishing line. So it looks like it’s actually flying out.” He carefully set the sculpture down, bringing his hand up to smooth his fingertips over his lips. “A year ago I was in a car accident, I ended up with a concussion. I kept seeing birds flying at me. At one point I was convinced there was one trapped in my head.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your accident Will…” Hannibal crowded closer, his fingers joining Will’s on the sculpture. “But I have to say… the effect? Incredible. Did you really see birds?” His voice was almost a whisper, his tone curious as he held Will’s sculpted face in his hands, the rough edges of the unglazed piece sending goosebumps along his arms. His thumb brushed dryly against Will’s. 

“What do you see now?”

Will swallowed hard, eyes watching raptly as Hannibal’s hand touched his. “I still see birds sometimes,” he said, voice lowering as he recalled the images from his most recent dreams. “Lately though… lately it’s been a stag. A giant stag covered in sleek black feathers, like the ravens I saw.” He closed his eyes, shuddering. “Sometimes he catches me, sometimes he doesn’t. When he does…” He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “It’s pretty bloody, to say the least.”

He looked up, intense vulnerability etched into his face. “He gores me, usually. Pins me against a tree and pushes until his antlers pierce through my chest.”

Putting on a concerned face, Hannibal removed his hands from Will’s, opting instead to place a steadying hand between Will’s shoulder blades. He left his hand there, large and warm and almost human.

“If you create that monster it won't hold any power over you Will.” He said it matter-of-factly as he caught Will’s gaze. He spread a hand out, gesturing to all of Will’s little experiments and works in progress. “All of this is a step to taking control of those dreams. Don’t run from the stag. Consider running _with_ the stag. Consider _becoming_ the stag.” He hoped his words would breath ambition into Will’s mind, stop him running from his dreams.

“You can run with these creatures, control them and tame them.” He wondered the extent of Will’s potential. How vivid could his dreams become, if prodded in the right fashion? Will yearned to be co-dependent with someone who understood his appreciation for the basic things in life. Hannibal affected a warm smile.

“Look at me, pushing you like this. I’m sorry. I see such beauty in your work. There is a darkness that scares you, but it doesn’t have to. You’re magnificent.” He stepped back slightly, allowing an appropriate space between them before he bent at the waist, gently squeezing Will’s fingers as though in a handshake. He smiled as he leaned close, pressing a dry, sure kiss to a stubbled cheek as he gave Will’s fingers a small squeeze.

Stepping back, he collected his sketchbook from the table and took one last appreciative look at Will’s pieces before making to leave.

“Thank you for showing me your work, Will. Hopefully I’ll see you around soon.” It wouldn’t do to outstay his welcome. Will needed to be left feeling a sense of longing. He disappeared into the hallway and was gone, leaving the boy alone in the small kiln room with his words, hoping Will would find _control_ and _power_ sufficient to quell his nightmares.

Will watched Hannibal leave, a sense of wonder on his face. He’d been plagued by his nightmares for so long, and never once had he ever thought to indulge them. No one had ever suggested he himself become the pursuer, to chase the stag that had so often chased him. The idea would have been abhorrent, if it weren’t so intriguing. Definitely something to dwell over later.

With a steadying breath he grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder. As he walked outside he noticed the last rays of sunshine slicing through the trees, striping the buildings with their brilliance as night approached. He’d have to walk fast if he wanted to be out of the woods by dark. Pushing his glasses up, he plunged into the thick coppice of trees, brain still swirling over the man with the sharp cheekbones and thick accent. He had a lot to tell Frederick that night.

 

Will let his head rise and fall with the rhythm of Frederick’s breath, head pillowed on his chest. “So anyway, he wasn’t that bad today,” he yawned, rubbing at his eyes. “He was pretty nice, actually. A little touchy, but I actually didn’t really mind it like I did when we were all hanging out. He seemed to feel bad about the way he talked to us, you know? Talked to you. He was also really interested in my work, he had a lot of nice things to say.”

Frederick seethed quietly, trying to push the bitter feelings from the front of his mind. He didn’t have any right to have them, he told himself firmly. Regardless, they were there, and they were much harder to suppress lately. _All_ of his feelings for Will were.

He offered Will a small hum to let him know he was listening, but that was about all. He didn’t want to talk about Hannibal Lecter, who was wooing Will and and insulting Frederick and _touching_. Grim, he tried not to dwell on the fact that Will had rushed off that evening without Frederick. Which was _fine_ , he told himself firmly. He was his own person, he had his own stuff to do. Somehow, though, after a couple weeks of accompanying Will through the dark forest (for reasons he now understood much better), it stung to think that Will didn’t need him for that anymore. 

It was foolish though. Will didn’t owe him anything. Frederick knew now, with certainty, that they were friends. And he’d offered everything a friend would normally, and couldn’t expect anything more in return. Sure, the cuddling was a little unorthodox, but if it was what Will needed, Frederick promised himself he would offer it, as a friend. It was time to reign back his _less-than-friendly_ feelings for Will. The poor boy didn’t need to juggle suitors, and it was already clear he thought of Frederick as a means of comfort. That could be enough.

Will hid a yawn against Frederick’s shoulder, blinking owlishly as he looked up at him. “Anyway. I’ve been talking non-stop since we got in bed. Anything exciting happen during your day?”

It had been exciting to show off his pieces, and sure, Hannibal had an exotic sort of charm about him. But here, snuggled in Frederick’s arms, he was happier than he’d been all day. He knew it would become an issue if he didn’t say something soon. Either Frederick returned his feelings and they were wasting time, or he didn’t and Will was abusing his compassion for physical affection. It could wait another day though, couldn’t it? For now they had each other, and the bed was warm, and Frederick had set up his iPod so they could listen to The Smiths as they fell asleep.

And that was all fairly perfect, as far as Will was concerned.

Jaw cracking, Frederick hid a yawn in Will’s hair, drawing patterns on the boy’s back with his nails. He shook his head to Will’s question, feeling weary now, and nonconfrontational. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to articulate his feelings properly anyway. He let his fingers draw large fish scales down Will’s back, wanting to wrap him in them.

“Got a lot of work done in studio tonight." His weekends were usually for assembling bits of his larger pieces. Weeknights were for doing the monotonous work, which he occasionally broke up with ceramic or metal work. Something to keep his other skills honed so he didn't just get carpel tunnel from knitting with slippy fibres. Today, his hands were sore from such an activity. Tomorrow he’d have to take a break and work on something different. Perhaps catch up on his homework.

Will nodded, reaching up blindly to ruffle Frederick’s hair. He let the soft locks slip through his fingers before sliding his hand down to rest on a warm cheek. “Sounds good. I’m excited to see it all put together.” Without realizing what he had done, he pressed his lips to Frederick’s shoulder in an affectionate kiss. “Let’s sleep. I’m tired and tomorrow is going to be a long one.” Draping a leg over Frederick’s thigh, he scootched impossibly close. “I’m going to make pancakes in the morning. I totally want pancakes now.”

With that he closed his eyes, warm and happy as he let sleep overtake him.

Despairing, Frederick stared into the darkness, feeling burned wherever Will was pressed against him. Maybe Will just thought of him as a friend with benefits, Frederick mused, heart thumping hard with anxiety. He let his hand continue to wander over Will’s shoulders, drawing all sorts of meaningless patterns he hoped were comforting. After all, it was why he was here at all. Will had asked him to stay, and it looked as though it could become a regular occurrence, since it’s function was to help Will with his night terrors.

Mouth set in a hard line, Frederick knew he’d have to make accommodations to spent some nights in his own room, by himself. He couldn't have this boy, warm and affection and with dwindling personal space considerations pressed against him _all night, every night_ and not be expected to need some alone time. And regardless of what Frederick knew he _ought_ to do, it didn’t change the fact that reigning in his desire for Will would take effort and time, neither of which was helped by having Will kiss his skin or ruffle his hair with a cute grin on his face. 

He closed his eyes finally, and tried to let the darkness take him down into sleep, but for many minutes he just lay there, tuned to the feel of Will’s heart beating against his own ribcage. Frustrated, he indulged his furious thoughts about Hannibal and let the bitterness and hatred grow until he finally found sleep out of exhaustion.


	6. Chapter 6

The air was bitingly cold that night, the moon hanging low and dim over the trees by the park as Frederick and Will meandered down the boardwalk to the docks. It was late, far too late to be out on a weekday, but they'd had a bit too much to drink at the pub after studio, and now they were energetic and adventurous. They'd hurried home so Frederick could wrap them both in his cushiest alpaca scarves and mitts before taking off again, cutting behind the library to walk alongside the foreboding park.

Will was tucked securely again his side as Frederick led the way, weaving gently with the alcohol. It was well past midnight, and the town had gone to sleep, leaving only the sound of their clunking footsteps and the gentle lapping of the lake against the shore.

"This one!" Frederick laughed, tugging Will by the arm onto the dock when the boy almost kept going without him. As they walked the length out into the water, it was as if they were walking into the sky. The dock lurched gently beneath them and the Milky Way spread out above and below, reflected in the perfect mirror of the lake.

Frederick took a deep breath of the cool air, immediately overwhelmed by the sight. His fingers tightened briefly on Will's arm before he pulled them both to sit down on the wooden planks. He eased onto his back, linking his hands behind his head.

"I used to come here all the time when you were probably sleeping." Frederick smirked. He'd made it sound as though he were sneaking out of the house when his parents were asleep.

Will took in the scene before them, eyes wide at the beauty of everything. The sky was inky black, and the stars looked like an explosion of light all around them. It made him feel small, humble. A long time ago it would make him feel wildly insignificant, now he felt honored to belong in such a big, big universe. 

Easing himself back, he let out a slow breath as he relaxed against the dock. His breath was a stream of mist, swirling above them. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured, eyes darting around to take it all in. “It’s so...peaceful.” Turning, he offered a bright, tipsy smile to Frederick. “Thank you for bringing me.’

Grinning, Frederick shimmied closer to press his shoulder to Will's. In the moment it was easily forgotten he'd promised himself he wouldn't get attached. Here, now, it felt incredibly special to be sharing this with Will, and he just wanted to snuggle and hold hands and press himself against the other boy. 

“Come with me more often,” Frederick implored, bumping his knee against Will’s. “As you can see, its worth it to be a little cold.” He could feel his nose getting a little chilled, and he turned his face into the warmth of his own scarf that was wound around Will’s neck. It was relaxing to breath in both his and Will’s smells, mingled in the fibres.

Will gave a content sigh, burying his nose in Frederick’s hair and breathing him in. He smelled smoky, like the pub they’d gotten delightfully buzzed at. “Mmokay,” he sighed, winding their arms together to end in their laced fingers. “Whenever. If I’m asleep just wake me up. It’ll be worth it.” He looked absently into the distance, heart pleasantly full as they lay together in the cold of the night.

“Hey. Hey,” he murmured, bumping their knees together once more. “Don’t laugh. But thank you for everything you’ve done. For everything you’ve been lately,” he said, face serious as he looked down at his roommate. “I um, I’ve never slept as well as I do now. And that’s all because of you. It means a lot to me.” He quickly looked away, blushing.

Frederick’s heart seemed to grow in his chest, and he squeezed Will’s fingers lightly before rubbing his thumb over a rough palm. Despite all his doubts and concerns about allowing himself to remain so attached to Will Graham, the appreciation was mutual. Every day of not giving in and asking for what he wanted was torture, but Will filled him up so much with all the small things he did and Frederick couldn’t completely let go. He was still hopelessly enamoured.  
All it took was a smile, the touch of his fingers, shy on Frederick’s skin, the gentle rise and fall of his chest in his sleep as he breathed softly over Frederick’s neck. Every moment felt like a gift, and Frederick cherished each one, often remembering them with clarity when he was sketching alone or working on the tedious pieces of his work. It made the time pass much quicker, and soon he’d be back home with Will, and they’d be twined around each other, pretending that was something friends did.

“I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t do the bare minimum.” Frederick chuckled, and he felt the silence over the lake eat his voice as though it had never existed. “Thats what friends are for…” He added after a moment, voice decidedly distant.

Will looked up, eyes soft as he studied Frederick’s face. “Yeah,” he said softly, his own voice barely filling the space between them. He appeared to be searching for something. Maybe he found it, because the smile that curved his lips was small but hopeful. “Yeah, maybe it is what friends are for.”

He brought a hand up, heart thundering in his chest as he just barely untucked the scarf around Frederick’s neck. The skin below was warm from the layers, but a simple touch of cold fingers sent a shiver along his skin that quickly broke into goosebumps. Will smiled shyly, eyes flickering up as if to ask, _Is this okay? Am I doing the right thing?_ He let his fingers curl slowly around Frederick’s neck, gently easing him close until their foreheads pressed together. “I’ve never really had a friend like you though,” he whispered, breath turning to steam between them.

Laying there on the dock, looking vulnerable yet acting so bold, Will was sure this would be the night that defined him as a human. He felt happy, anxious but brave. For the first time he was going to do something right, was going to take what he wanted, consequences be damned. Easing forward, he closed his eyes and just barely brushed his lips against Frederick’s, making a delighted sound at the soft warmth he found when their skin met.

Will’s hand moving intimately along his neck had been enough to send Frederick into a small fit of shivers, but as Will closed the distance between them, he was sure his heart had completely seized. For a moment, all he felt was the soft press of Will’s lips over his own, Will’s heart thudding through his wrist against Frederick’s neck, the way Will’s knee slid up to cover his thigh just barely. Will’s small hum of pleasure brought Frederick back- and he realized now that his heart was actually _racing_ , trapped and squeezed. He felt like a statue beneath the other boy, unable to act, chest tight and aching with anxiety.

For a brief moment Will panicked. Frederick was definitely tense underneath him, still and cold as Will poured his passion into unmoving lips. Had he been wrong? Why would Frederick spend every night in bed with him if he, too didn’t feel the spark between them? Was Will just a terrible kisser? With that horrific thought in his mind he tried to do better, cupping Frederick’s face with one shaking hand as he caught a still lower lip between his own, closing his eyes and trying to kiss like they did in the movies. 

He was so damn _inexperienced_ , he knew that would count against him. His anxiety had followed him around like a chain around his ankle, slowing him and tripping him up as he progressed through adolescence. Now he was a grown man who had barely kissed three different boys. Now it _mattered_ and he didn’t know what to do.

Finally, Frederick closed his eyes properly and breathed through his nose, trying to relax under Will who despite his obvious nerves was still pliant and affectionate against him. He raised a hand to tentatively slide over a slender waist before he finally responded bodily: turning in closer, relaxing under calloused hands, and sliding his mouth slowly against’s Will with the trepidation one might expect from a first kiss. Far from it, Frederick loved kissing, and wanted to _devour_ Will, which was exactly the conundrum. _Friends… Friends_ … drifted slowly in and out of Frederick’s mind as he let Will take control.

Will sank into Frederick, body relaxing as relief coursed through him. He shivered as Frederick pulled him close, their bodies twining comfortably. This he knew, this ease with which he molded against Frederick. They’d done this plenty by now, Frederick spending almost every night in Will’s bed. Their bodies were well acquainted. Now their mouths needed to become equally so, if Will was to have his way.

With a short laugh he pushed Frederick back, leaning over him and kissing all over his face. “That was okay, right? It was good?” He looked bright and beautiful, the moonlight reflecting off his dark hair which spilled forward to frame his face. Cheeks rosy from the cold and the excitement of physical affection, he looked healthier than he ever had.

Frederick ached for Will the moment he pulled away, and his lips followed Will’s until the boy was out of reach, smiling and laughing and pressing soft lips everywhere. When he pulled back, Frederick’s could swear his breath caught in his throat. The soft moonlight accentuated every curve of Will’s body, making his intentions all the more clear. His shoulders were loose and down, his head tilted, his hip pressed to Frederick’s. He _wanted_ Frederick. The realization was enough to make him feel a little dizzy, and without thinking, he reached up to slide his fingers along Will’s neck, shivering with the knowledge that perhaps, for now, he was allowed to touch Will _intimately_.

“S’good…” He murmured, running his thumb along Will’s jaw. Will’s smile was infectious, and Frederick felt one of his own blossoming. Inhibitions pushed to the wayside, he hooked his hand under Will’s thigh and pulled the boy to slide on top of him. Stretching up with his lips parted, he pulled Will to him with a gentle hand behind his neck. When their lips met it was slow and unhurried, and Will tasted sweet like his whiskey.

Will felt a burning current flowing through him, starting in his thighs and racing up until his head was spinning. Frederick looked so incredible under him. He _always_ looked incredible, disheveled and sexy and artistic, but now he was _divine_. His muscles were loose and lax under Will, making him all the more comfortable to lay on. His eyes scorched him like a brand, the heat radiating from them so intense that Will had to look away. Instead he focused on those lips, full and plush against his own.

Will pulled back slightly, breath catching in his throat. “I haven’t um, kissed that many boys,” he said, hoping it would suffice as an apology. He moved back in, lightly brushing his mouth along Frederick’s cheek before kissing him once more, hands coming up to brace against his broad chest.

Will’s nervous admission filled Frederick with tenderness, and he hummed in response, hands sliding up to wind around Will’s waist. Will was light, barely a weight at all, but Frederick felt every inch of him as hot heat, and growing hungry, he twisted his fingers into the cotton shirt under Will’s coat, pressing closer as he licked lightly into Will’s mouth.

“This okay?” He whispered, hands running under the shirt to press along a hot back. He slid his nose gently over Will’s, breath teasing over parted lips as he waited.

Will looked dazed, chin tilting slightly to encourage Frederick’s lips closer. “Mhm. Yeah. Very okay,” he said, voice barely a whimper between them. He squirmed slightly to find a better position, legs falling between Frederick’s thighs. 

He leaned in, a bit hungrier, a little more desperate as they kissed again. This time he parted his lips, opening his mouth against Frederick’s and lightly running his tongue just inside his bottom lip. He felt dizzy, drunk on whiskey and the startling infatuation he felt for the boy under him. It was all so new, this overwhelming ache in his chest. He wanted to consume him, to never, ever let him go.

“You’re really beautiful, it’s ridiculous,” Will moaned, bolder this time as he licked his way into Frederick’s mouth.

The devastated tone to Will’s voice raised goosebumps all along Frederick’s skin. He parted his lips and slid them surely over Will’s, tongue pressing into a hot mouth. He was beginning to worry, now, if Will was perhaps just drunk. This was something the two of them could get away with when drunk. If that was what this all meant, Frederick was sure he could learn to accommodate being drunk most of the time. Every soft sigh from Will’s lips, every nervous shift of his body over Frederick’s sizzled his nerves until they were raw.

“You’re one to talk-” Frederick hissed, beginning to feel the tight coil of arousal. He rolled them quickly, straddling Will’s thighs and leaning back, lacing their fingers. More fully in the light now, Will was a vision. Flushed, with lips raw from kissing, his breath came as small puffs of steam. Frederick ached for him.

“Do you know-” He pulled Will’s fingers to his mouth, kissing down his palm to his wrist. “That you taste _incredibly_ good?” He nipped lightly and then mouthed over the skin, his other hand teasing just under the edge of the coat to reach the hot skin of Will’s waist.

Will whined high in his throat, unable to stop the squirm that nearly unseated Frederick from his thighs. His skin was burning where Frederick touched him; he wasn’t sure he would survive it if they carried on much longer. Could a healthy twenty-year-old suffer a heart attack from arousal? He worried that he was going to find out. 

Fingers curling, he ran them lightly just behind Frederick’s ear. “Feel free to keep tasting then,” he choked, looking terrified despite his bold words. His overwhelming fear was that Frederick would be underwhelmed by him, by whatever it was that Will had to offer. Still, it was worth a try. “Because you’re gorgeous, and I’m pretty sure I might be dreaming right now, and if so we’re probably limited on time.” He quickly wetted his lips with a pink tongue, grinning awkwardly.

“We’re not dreaming…” Frederick whispered back, sliding forward a little as he drew one of Will’s fingers into his mouth. He watched Will’s face with predatory eyes, and saw the glaze of lust settle and permeate. Will was completely flushed now, lips parted, eyes heavy. His hips moved restlessly under Frederick, who felt with a shiver of lust and the tell-tale feel of his arousal.

Will gasped, looking thoroughly shocked at the current state of affairs. He was definitely responding to Frederick’s mouth, his jeans were uncomfortably tight - made even more so by Frederick sitting firmly on top of him. “O-oh!”

“Put you in a bit of a pinch, have I?” Frederick growled, lips curled into a devious grin. He was hard too, could feel it pressing uncomfortably against the stretch of his jeans. He pulled Will’s fingers down to his thigh, eager to show him just how much his feelings were reciprocated- when suddenly something caught his attention.

Off to the left, in the park, Frederick could heard a chorus of laughter. Three or more voices, easily. His hands stilled, and he turned his head, peering into the dark. He could just make out the light of a cellphone and the movement of silhouettes under the moon. He turned back to Will, eyebrows knotted.

Will groaned, eyes pleading. “Don’t say it…”

“We have to go!” Frederick whispered quickly, pressing a kiss to Will’s palm before easing back and tugging the boy up to stand. They had nowhere to hide: they had to make it back to shore and across the street before the park-goers had a chance to round the corner. If the look on Will’s face was indication of what they both looked like, Frederick knew the gig would be up immediately. Will looked thoroughly debauched.

“You look stunning,” he groaned, regretful this had to end so abruptly, but delighted it had happened at all. He tightened his fingers around Will’s and broke into as silent a run as he could manage on the boards of the dock.

Will did his best to keep up; he’d never been much of a runner, and the stirrings of an erection made it all the more difficult. His black Chuck Taylors pounded against the path once they were past the dock, hand tightening in Frederick’s as they raced towards home.

When they arrived both were panting and laughing, the thrill of adrenaline coursing through them. Will let his back fall against the door, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. “You. That was. Fuck!” he gasped, breaking into another fit of laughter. Once Frederick had the door open he practically fell inside, limbs still awkward from the whiskey he’d drunk. “I can’t...I can’t believe we did that. And almost got caught!” His eyes were bright, a sort of glee on his face.

Grabbing Frederick by the wrist, he tugged the other boy over and wrapped him into a tight hug. “I can’t breathe,” he giggled, trying to relax. “That was _insane_.”

Frederick couldn’t hide his smirk, and he tucked his face into Will’s neck, a hand rustling gently through dark curls. As his fingers dragged down behind Will’s neck, he felt his heartbeat slowing, and felt Will’s answering thrum against his chest. A little unsteadily, Frederick pulled back, smiling widely and watching his own hand where it was pressed to Will’s neck.

“Whats _insane_ ,” He began, voice dark and low, “is that we still have to be up for class tomorrow…” He gave Will a chagrined look and ruffled his hair. “I’m a bad influence on you. Time for bed, I think.” He nodded upstairs, stepping back slightly. “My room, tonight? I wont try anything funny!” He laughed, putting his hands in the air

Will laughed, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous. Come on, your room.” He grabbed Frederick by the hand, tugging him along as they walked upstairs. Once they were in the confines of the bedroom Will began stripping his clothes off, tossing them in the general direction of the dirty clothes bin. He did most of their laundry anyway now, part of him worried that Frederick would never eat or wear clean clothes if he weren’t around.

As the excitement of the night started to fade, it was replaced with a happy sort of weariness that settled right into his bones. Crawling into bed, Will beckoned Frederick close. “C’mere, I’m cold,” he ordered, taking his glasses off and tossing them on the bedside table.

“Demanding, aren’t you?” Frederick teased as he discarded his clothing in a pile around him. Clad in his underwear and a long sleeve shirt, he slid in beside Will, immediately twining their legs and pulling the other boy to his chest. Thankfully in all the excitement his arousal had faded, and he could enjoy the simple pleasure of Will’s even breaths ghosting along his skin. It would be difficult to forget the rage of hormones, the wanton hunger he’d felt to see Will so vulnerable and needy beneath him. Furrowing his brows, he decided it was best not to dwell on it at present. If he did, he’d also have to think about whether or not it _meant_ anything.

They were pressed together much the same as they had for the past couple weeks, having developed an easy comfort and a level of affection that was supremely uncommon for a normal friendship, but that they’d grown accustomed to. The balance had always been a bit precarious, and after tonight it was clear that it hadn’t taken much to push it over. His feelings for Will hadn’t changed, though he’d been attempting to repress them for the sake of their friendship. It seemed to be that perhaps _Will_ had changed his mind. Or he was only having fun. 

It was that thought exactly that Frederick didn’t wish to linger on. He sighed, easing back into the pillows as the thrill of their adventure caught up to him. His limbs felt heavy, his mind felt a little cloudy with alcohol.

Will himself was desperately trying to sort his thoughts, picking through everything that had happened that night. Where Frederick felt heavy, Will felt like he was going to float away. There was a lightness to him he’d never felt before, for once he felt like he was _himself_. Not only that, there was someone who liked that about him. 

With a wide yawn he curled up, tugging Frederick closer as he closed his eyes. Gone were the early days where having Frederick so close would keep him awake. Now he couldn’t imagine sleeping without him. Heart full and fit to burst, he rested his cheek on Frederick’s skin and let himself drift into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

As Frederick woke that morning to find himself aroused and pressed against Will’s thigh, he really started to wonder if sleeping in the same bed was taking its toll. Just as many mornings previous, he had to slide back and out of bed and pad to the bathroom to wait out his situation before he could get on with his morning. After their electrifying makeout session earlier in the week, they’d been very affectionate with one another, but they hadn’t spoken about it- hadn’t even mentioned it. There had been no kisses, or intimate touches. Just Will slithering into bed with him, half naked and beautiful, and Frederick waking up hard nearly every morning as his mind remembered the feel of Will’s mouth hot against his.

Standing in the shower, agitated and flushed after he’d come into his hand with Will’s names on his lips, he roughly washed himself. Afterwards, he stood in front of the mirror, watching his own eyes watching him back, seeing the pain there. The frustration. After everything they’d built, what were they doing? Days and days of ‘friends only’ after one night of _lovers_ , and Frederick was confused. There wasn’t even any awkwardness, especially on Will’s part. He seemed as pleased as ever to be by Frederick’s side. Frederick wanted more. Wanted to hold his hand, kiss his neck, his lips, run his hands all over the body underneath the many layers of clothes. Wanted to tell Will just how much he was beginning to mean to Frederick. Somehow, there still seemed to be a wall.

Decided, and feeling mostly-confident, Frederick tightened a towel around his waist, tousled his damp hair, and flung the door open- only to run into a very sleepy looking Will, whose eyes widened at the startled look on Frederick’s face.

Will stumbled back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Despite a desperate attempt to take the high road, it wasn’t long before his eyes flickered down to take in Frederick’s half-naked state. The towel around his hips was sinfully low, showing off the “v” that directed Will’s eyes even lower. His skin was still flushed from the heat of his shower, giving him a healthy glow. Looking up, Will turned cherry red as he met Frederick’s eyes.

“Um. Good morning,” he stammered, managing a timid smile. He himself still looked half-asleep, eyes heavy lidded and hair a tousled mess. He had bundled up the night before, the cold creeping in through the windows and making it necessary to sleep in layers despite his usual habit of sleeping in nothing but his boxers . His sweater- _Frederick’s_ sweater, was long on him, sleeves hanging past his fingertips. When he had crawled into bed he had been wearing a pair of green flannel pajama pants, but sometime in the night he had kicked them off to tangle bare legs together with Frederick’s. Now he was reduced to the sweater and his boxers alone, the only other things on him being a shocked expression and a heated blush.

He was dealing with his feelings for Frederick the only way he knew how; slowly, shyly, small step by small step. They already shared so much, right down to their bed at night. Still, he was still terrified that it was all a fluke, that Frederick was physically affectionate and open but had no romantic inclinations for his roommate. So he continued to press in, continued to be forthcoming with his affection, but when it came to any drastic measures he drew back.

“You um. How did you sleep?” Will asked, voice thick and rough as he laughed.

Eyebrows still raised in what seemed to be a permanently startled expression, Frederick stepped out into the hall, crowding Will against the wall. With his roommate still slouchy and soft from sleep, and Frederick raised to his full height in an attempt to seem fearless, it gave the effect that he actually loomed over Will, a first. His hands came up to rest on slim hips, fingering the wool of his own sweater. He’d caught Will wearing his clothes on numerous occasions, but it made him so happy, and looked so good on Will he hadn’t bother to say anything.

“ _Hey_ …” His voice was a whisper as he leaned in, getting closer than they normally did after they left the bed. Daytime was friend territory. But he had to push those boundaries, he had to tell Will how he felt. “You. Will you go out with me saturday night?” It seemed now like a poor idea. Saturday was almost a week away. It was only Tuesday morning. He’d have to be around Will, pressed against him at night, eating with him in the evening, all with that _knowledge_. What would Will think?

Will was stunned, heart hammering in his chest. He knew he had no right to be this shocked. They’d already kissed, already touched in quietly intimate ways that made Will feel like he was melting into a pool of himself at Frederick’s feet. Still, things had certainly calmed down since that night on the dock. It was as if in daylight they had to play the role of casual friends, waiting for the sun to set before they could strip their masks off and once more wrap around each other. 

He swallowed hard, hands shaking as he brought them up to tentatively rest on Frederick’s shoulders. “That depends,” he said, voice quaking with anxiety. “Do I have to wait until Saturday to kiss you again?”

It was as though every anxiety jumped out of Frederick’s body all at once, leaving his skin buzzing and his insides hot. He felt his own heartbeat, hammering away, his hands shaking. He didn’t think, his hands moved without him as a short, relieved laugh bubbled up and he pressed in, molding his lips soundly to Will’s. He groaned happily as his arms tightened around the other boy, sinking into the soft wool of his own sweater.

Will eagerly met the kiss, forgetting about his probable morning breath and his alarmingly full bladder. He was too lost in the warmth of Frederick’s lips pressed against his. Last time they’d done this he’d been pretty drunk, and though he remembered everything in the morning, details had been fuzzy. Now he could take his time, committing the kiss to memory.

After one more long, urgent kiss Will stole a few more, short and sweet, like sips of ice tea on a hot afternoon. He felt languid in his happiness, draping himself against Frederick and trying to pour out every ounce of the happiness he felt.

Smiling made it impossible to keep kissing and Frederick pulled back, tugging gently at the sweater and giving Will a meaningful look. 

“You gonna wear my clothes on our date?” 

Will looked delirious, a dreamy little grin lighting up his features. “Maybe. You gonna complain if I do?” He pulled Frederick in for one more kiss, reaching around to get in a saucy little grope before darting around him and locking himself in the bathroom, laughing all the way.

 

Frederick had started planning immediately, unable to keep himself from obsessing about the day and what it was and what it meant and how it would look and come together… It only took a day to realize he needed a buffer, or he was going to come across very foolish and ill-prepared. Thursday morning he texted Beverly and at lunch he gave Will a quick kiss on the cheek and told him he was sorry, but he had to attend to important “business”. He spent the entire lunch hour and most of the afternoon prattling on to Beverly about his feelings for Will, what they’d done (he omitted Will’s nightmares) and where they stood.

“I’m sorry, I know, I’m just going on and on. I’m not getting anything accomplished here… I know its not really my style, or it doesn’t seem like it anyway…” He gave Beverly a quick glance before looking back down at his clasped hands. “But I want it to be a little special, a little _grandiose_. I want us to move around, go from place to place. 

“I want our living room to be turned into a huge blanket fort and I want to be foolishly in love and I want him to know how much I want to be with him. At the end of the night I want to lay there, with him by my side, and I want him to know it!” He was a little breathless, and feeling quite embarrassed of hours of just waxing on about Will, and his plight with saturday. He rarely spoke so much, or shared so much that was _personal_ , but there was something about Beverly that demanded honesty, and there was no point trying to get anything passed her.

Beverly watched him, a bemused smirk on her face as he went on and on about Will. Of course, she had known-they’d all known. After that picnic in the woods she and her roommates had gotten high and had an extensive discussion about Will and Frederick, and where everyone saw them going. Jimmy had been delighted over the whole thing, trying to convince them they needed to play matchmaker to set the two up faster. Brian simply rolled his eyes, downing his beer and absently rubbing Jimmy’s thigh. He wasn’t much interested in romances that weren’t his own. Beverly had come in as the voice of reason, telling Jimmy in no uncertain terms that she would beat him if he interfered in any way.

Then they’d all gotten high and watched Howl’s Moving Castle, cooing over the animation as all three of them cuddled up together on the couch.

She felt a warm sense of satisfaction watching Frederick light up as he spoke. He’d barely said fifteen words since they’d become friends, communicating through glances and smirks. Now he was all words, his feelings for Will flowing out like an unstoppable river. 

“You go on like this? He’ll have no problem knowing how you feel,” she said, absently spinning her water bottle on the table. “He’ll be happy just to be around you. You totally need to do something extravagant though, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. So blanket fort, cuddling, whatever. What comes after that? What’s he into?”

Shaking off the light trembling in his hands, Frederick lit a cigarette as he thought.

“Tactile experiences.” He said shortly. “I thought I could take him to the dogsledding kennels…” He coloured, staring out into the forest. “They do sledding for the public in the winter, but in the fall they allow people to come to the kennel to see the dogs. He’d like that I think… though I’ve never asked him how he feels about dogs, but…” He worried his lip, a stricken look coming over his face.

“Thats from one to three on saturday… The town is also having their fall festival this weekend. I thought maybe we could go down to the lake and see what music is playing, hang out in the sun for a bit? I have reservations already made for Le Moulin at six…” He had gotten breathless again and his cigarette had burned halfway down without him smoking it.

“Beverly. I’m panicking.” He turned wide eyes to her, shoulders hunched.

Beverly reached over, taking Frederick’s hand between her own. Her hands were soft, clearly well tended to. Her skin had the supple quality of someone meticulous about lotion, nails neat and trimmed and painted a deep, velvety green. Still, despite all the obvious care, her fingertips and cuticles were constantly stained with ink. She liked it there, liked the marks that showed her dedication to her work. She’d always felt that if someone wanted to understand her they just need look at her fingertips. They bore the marks of her hard work, her attention to detail, while still presenting a well tended to image.

Holding Frederick’s hand between her own ink stained fingers, a look of fondness crossed her face. “Hey. Listen. The hard part’s over, okay? You’ve crossed the biggest bridge, you know he’s into you. You get to see every day how much he’s looking forward to it. So instead of worrying about every little detail, just focus on having fun. That’ll be the best way to make it a success, you know?”

Drawing her hands back, she plucked up her empty water bottle and effortlessly tossed it ten feet, straight into the trash bin. “Like, seriously. You could walk into the house _tonight_ and get him naked, so I just don’t see the point in worrying if he’ll enjoy himself. I know he comes across as a delicate flower, but you know he isn’t.” She looked back over, lips quirked into a teasing grin.

Frederick offered a hopeful smile, before blushing and looking at his hands again.

“Yeah.” He smoked the rest of his cigarette in silence. “Hey. You’re so good to me. What did I do to deserve it, hmm?” Despite the fact he never seemed to offer very much, Beverly was always open and honest with him. He appreciated her bluntness, and her loyalty as a friend, though he’d never had a chance to prove his.

“I’ve got another favour to ask though…” He started, giving her a sidelong grin. “This blanket fort…. I need someone to create this thing while we’re gone in the afternoon…” He widened his eyes at her, hands pressing together as though in prayer. He gave her an imploring look. “If you guys help, I’ll supply the weed...” His voice was a singsong as he bowed his neck to her.

Beverly barked out a short laugh, head falling back. “Oh man, I was going to mess with you and give you shit, but I can’t. You’re just too cute, it’s gross and I love it.” She grinned, shaking her head. “Yes, I will set up a blanket fort. I’ll make Zee help, he’s great with construction so it’ll hold up well. Jimmy will be in charge of making it nice and cozy. I’ll...tell them what to do,” she said with a smirk. “You just leave any instructions you have and we’ll have your back.”

She reached over, fondly tugging a curl that had fallen into Frederick’s eye. “Leave it to us, Robert Smith. Your date will be perfect.”

 

Will took his glasses off, blinking hard at the sheet of paper laid out in front of him. Blank paper was a magical thing when you attended art school, the first step in a path of endless possibilities. It could _be_ anything, could _mean_ anything. It could support a myriad of materials, and was used in so many different disciplines in the art world. Bright and brilliant white, smooth and crisp and waiting patiently for his touch, it was like a new lover longing to be explored. 

Right now though it was just a blurry sheet of paper on a table. 

Will grabbed his second pair of glasses, the ones he wore exclusively for doing fine detailing. His usual pair was a set of bifocals helping to correct his near-sightedness while adjusting at the top for driving and distances. This pair was much more intense; one prescription, intense and dizzying to anyone who didn’t wear glasses. When he put them on he felt like a hawk, able to zoom in on the smallest details of his sculptures. This was the pair his friends would steal, sliding on and exclaiming, “Wow, you are blind!” as if he hadn’t heard it a million times before.

Grabbing his exacto knife, he set to work on the paper in front of him. He started tracing abstract lines, curlicues and loops and scrolls that sliced the paper into various pieces. As he cut, he let his mind wander. It was the best way to accomplish this sort of work, this formless art that was meant to find its shape as it was constructed. Once pieces were cut away he would lift them, attaching them to various spots on the paper to give it dimension and height. Naturally, his mind wandered to the date he had coming up that weekend.

It was nearly impossible for Will to exist in Frederick’s orbit without wanting to orient himself towards his roommate at all times. In the beginning they were nothing, two parallel lines that never seemed to meet. Now though...now they seemed like _everything_. Every morning he woke to the same fond smile, the same strong hands smoothing over his back and stroking his hair as he drifted into wakefulness. The same lips would press to his, grinning against his mouth until he couldn’t help but smile himself. It was staggering, just how good it could feel to be _wanted_. It wasn’t something he was used to. Not from his family, not from lovers.

Now he was desired, and it was doing wonderful things for his self worth.

It didn’t hurt that Frederick was the loveliest person in all of Will’s existence. He had every intention of spending hours upon hours lost in those eyes. In fact, he was looking forward to it. Looking forward to twining his limbs with Frederick’s, to pressing sweet kisses to those wide, smiling lips again and again.

With a sigh he cut out another careful shape, removing a bit of paper from the main body and flicking it away. He didn’t hear Hannibal approach until it was too late; the sudden presence made him jump, the blade knicking his thumb and drawing a bead of dark red blood. 

“Shit,” he swore, sticking his thumb quickly in his mouth.

Quick to respond, Hannibal’s hand darted out, grabbing Will’s wrist and lifting him bodily out of the chair. 

“I’m sorry, Will, I’m sorry…” His voice was gentle, murmuring small affectionate words as he turned Will to him with a gentle hand on his waist. “That was very rude of me. To sneak up like that. I’m sorry…” He repeated, hand sliding up Will’s wrist to grasp his palm, squeezing his thumb uncomfortably between two fingers until blood dewed over the small knick. 

He looked down, capturing Will’s gaze with dark eyes before he pulled Will’s hand to his mouth, sucking just the tip of his thumb between pale lips. His tongue grazed the wound tenderly before he released Will’s hand, tilting his head to look down apologetically with a small smile.

“I just came to check in on you. I should have made my presence known.” His eyes wandered openly over Will’s face, expression serene and reverent.

Will looked up at Hannibal, eyes wide. He wanted to jerk away, to take a quick step back, but he was already pressed against his work space. The X-Acto had been dropped without a thought, and if he pushed up against the desk he might stab himself in the back of the thigh.

Unsure of what to do, he managed an awkward laugh.

“Good thing I don’t have any diseases,” he said weakly, swallowing hard. “It’s good to see you!” He had to struggle to feign enthusiasm, he’d been so rattled by the extreme intimacy of Hannibal’s act.

Hannibal smiled pleasantly, taking a small step back to allow Will the comfort of his personal space. Hannibal remained just on the edge, fingers clasped behind him. If this was going to work, Will would have to trust him. He had to sever whatever was growing between Will and his obnoxious and untalented roommate. Hannibal was filled with disgust at the thought of the boy, simpering and weak, clinging to his textiles and dyes, like a small baby rabbit making a nest of old yarn. 

Will needed strong support, a firm hand and the right coaching. Hannibal could offer this and so much more. He wanted to mold himself to the boy, whisper encouragement into his ear and press their hands together so he could feel the blood thrumming through Will’s veins, feel it under his tongue, feel it wildly beating against his chest. Hannibal imagined Will pressed tightly to him, could feel his heartbeat in his throat as he mouthed up his neck. His hand slid down a pale, trembling abdomen before he pressed in, parting he flesh easily. Blood ran warm like a blanket over his arm as he reached inside to slide his fingers around Will’s heart.

In his mind-palace Will trembled and gasped, but _trusted_. He looked at Hannibal with eyes full of devotion, full of the knowledge that he was going to be molded into something so much better. That Will pressed into him, pressed into the intrusion, let Hannibal enter him in the most intimate of ways. 

Hannibal whispered his reassurance against Will’s throat, squeezing the heart in his hand. Will just needed a restart, a do-over. Hannibal needed to strip the canvas and pull forth what Will was _truly_ capable of.

His eyes shone darkly with the vision as he leaned in again, hand coming to rest on the table.

“Would you do me the pleasure of accepting an invitation to dinner this Saturday?” His eyes fixed on Will’s lips, and his hands itched to slip around his throat, just to feel the jump of his pulse, to watch small bruises appear on the pale skin.

Will trembled slightly, the invasion of his space bringing forth every insecurity he hadn’t faced in weeks. All the progress he’d made, the work he’d done to feel like more than a social disorder wrapped in a diagnosis, he could feel it all slipping away as Hannibal forced Will to hold his gaze. Still, this was someone he considered at _least_ an acquaintance. There was no way Hannibal would know about Will’s issues, so how could he be blamed for it?

Just when he was going to let his anxiety pull him into autopilot, he thought of Frederick and their date. He _didn’t_ feel bad turning Hannibal down. After years of dealing with misplaced guilt, it was strange to want to make no apologies. He was excited about Saturday, eager for it to come faster. Hannibal seemed to like Will well enough, he would understand.

“Oh. Well, actually,” he said with an awkward laugh, picking up his blade and moving it a safe distance away. “Actually, I have a date Saturday. I’m sorry. You remember my roommate, right? Frederick? He’s got this whole big thing planned.” Will’s eyes betrayed his excitement. “I’d definitely like to hang out more though, can I get a rain check?”

Hannibal’s mouth twisted, unable to hide his disappointment.

“I’m sure what Frederick has planned is lovely. What a nice boy he is.” Hannibal turned his head, biting his lip in a way he hoped would make him look very put-upon. “I’ve got these tickets to an Abramovic re-creation in the city… I thought you would love it. They’re very difficult to get. One night only…” He offered Will a hopeful smile, chewing his lip and tilting his head.

Will smiled apologetically, reaching down to give Hannibal’s hand a light squeeze. “It sounds amazing, it really does. I’ve just, um…” He grinned, blushing and covering his face with his hand. “I really like him, you know? There’s been this… _thing_ between us for a while now, and we’re finally getting somewhere with it.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear this. I’m really sorry to turn you down though, I bet it’s going to be absolutely incredible.”

Hannibal carefully masked his fury, smiling tightly and stepping back.

“Not nearly as much without you there, I’m afraid.” He tilted forward, giving Will a dry kiss on the cheek before stepping back, expression much more schooled. 

“Do have fun this weekend, Will.” He nodded politely before leaving, chest tight with a silent rage. What could he do about that unworthy, bumbling nitwit of a roommate? Will would only feel attached to him if he knew his feelings were returned… Heading to the, studio, Hannibal pondered exactly which of Frederick’s weaknesses to target.

On his way to the door Hannibal stopped, throwing one last look over his shoulder towards Will. He looked lovely in the sunlight streaming through the windows, clearly flustered as he tried to focus once more on the project before him. He spared no glance towards Hannibal. It was clear that the interaction had caught him off guard, more than was to be expected.

As he turned to leave Hannibal paused, catching sight of Will’s bag, abandoned by the door. Will had left it lying open- rather careless, really. Hannibal would have to work on that little trait once Will was finally his. As he stepped closer he noticed a few supplies cascading out, tipped over on the floor. Pens, pencils, a pack of cigarettes… and a blue leather notebook with the simple word JOURNAL emblazoned across it in Will’s scratchy, hurried handwriting. With one more look behind him Hannibal stooped, picking it up.

He would take any help he could get in winning Will, and was not afraid to fight for what he desired. As he left the studio he pondered over what secrets the little blue book might reveal to him.

 

Will laughed helplessly as Frederick finished his impression of Jimmy, hiding his face in one of the many pillows tucked in around them. The blanket fort was carefully constructed; Will had been absolutely amazed when he’d walked in the house to discover it, immediately dropping his bags and vaulting past an anxious looking Frederick to dive inside. A towering construction of fishing wire and bedsheets, it had been set up to look like a cozy tent filled with blankets and pillows and all sorts of soft fabrics and scarves pilfered from Frederick’s room. The space inside was nest-like, and Will was fairly sure he was never going to leave. The lighting was soft, romantic, a simple string of Christmas lights draped around the tent so they’d be able to see each other in a myriad of colors.

Brian had gone all-out putting it together. Beverly had worried at first, he hadn’t seemed very interest in helping construct Frederick’s date when she told him of the plan. Then Jimmy had stolen him upstairs for a while, and when they returned he was much more willing to play along. He had been much more relaxed in general, actually, but she didn’t like to dwell on those things too much.

Now Will and Frederick were tucked inside, the world beyond the fort disappearing completely. Nothing outside of that sanctuary of warmth and happiness existed, nothing else mattered.

“Okay, but you _have_ to do that impression for Jimmy,” Will said, still laughing. “He’ll love it, are you kidding me?”

Frederick stretched on his back, feet sticking out of the small triangular doorway as he rested his head on his hands. He hadn’t been able to get rid of the grin the entire day. Everything had gone smoothly and it was a huge success. They’d slept in, and Frederick had made brunch when they’d finally awoke: poached eggs and toast. Nothing too fancy, but Will had seemed pleased nonetheless. In the afternoon, they’d taken a cab up into the woods and spent two hours at a local kennel. Frederick had never seen Will so happy. Had not even known it was _possible_ for Will to be so happy. Frederick still felt tender from watching Will with so many puppies piled on him, laying in the leaves and laughing loudly.

“He’ll kill me, he will!” He gave Will a sidelong smile before turning on his side, resting his head on an arm. He snuck a hand across the space between them, laying it on the blankets.

“Did you like today so far? I mean, we’re far from finished, but.... Am I on the right track?”

Will reached out, hand meeting Frederick’s. He laced their fingers together, a soft, affectionate expression gracing his features. 

“I… can’t even tell you how amazing today has been,” he murmured. The little nest of blankets seemed so private, their safe haven from the rest of the world. It would be disrespectful to speak too loudly. He moved a bit closer, letting his knees bump against Frederick’s. “Like… this isn’t anything I could have dreamed up, I’m not good with this kind of stuff. Thinking outside of the box like this.”

Leaning in, he stole a sweet kiss. “Thank you. For today. I just feel really… I don’t know. Cared about,” he finished lamely, cheeks pink.

Frederick shifted forward, sliding a thigh between Will’s knees as he squeezed his fingers.

“I do.” He said, plainly, eyes searching Will’s. “I care about you quite a lot actually.” He pressed forward slowly, easing his lips against Will’s. They kissed leisurely, soft sighs of pleasure and small bites against reddened lips. When Frederick pulled back, his chest was full, his eyes heavy-lidded and cheeks red. He rubbed his thumb restlessly in Will’s palm.

“ _Quite_ a lot.” Smiling, he looked down to check the time on his phone. “Are you hungry yet? I dare say all that roughhousing with the dogs has built up an appetite?”

“The _dogs_ ,” Will groaned, momentarily transported back to their earlier excursion. There was a look of pure bliss on his face, those hours were the happiest he could ever remember being. He’d always connected to dogs, especially mutts and strays. Dogs never expected anything, never demanded. All they wanted was affection. Loyal to a fault, protective, intuitive…

Will snapped himself out of it, looking over at Frederick. “I could totally go for food soon. As long as you promise me that we’re sleeping in here tonight…” He leaned in, pressing their lips together once more. Tomorrow was Sunday, and neither boy had made plans. That meant they could spend the morning lazing around in their new safe haven, at least until the demand for food was too great. Will was going to make sure they left this fort up for as long as possible.

Leaning on his elbow, Frederick moved closer and dipped his head down, kissing Will as though he couldn't get enough. His hand smoothed over Will's side before slowly sliding over his hip and against his ass. Will was responsive beneath him, jumping at his touch and sighing into his mouth as Frederick palmed down his thigh. That eager feeling returned and he was reminded of their time on the dock and quite suddenly felt as though he didn't want to leave.

Snapping out of it, he pulled back. Patience was a virtue and Will was worth every moment of waiting. He wasn't going to ruin the day he'd carefully planned by jumping the gun. He was bringing Will out for a nice meal, and then to spend a couple hours at the party up the street before heading home to snuggle into their friend's amazing blanket fort. He made a note to send Bev a quick text before they left. He really owed her now.

"That's the plan," he replied against Will's lips, face flushed. He sat up, carefully pulling Will with him.

"Come on then, we've got reservations." 

***

The walk to the restaurant was only ten minutes: after all, the town was very small. Frederick had heard good thing about the place but had never gone on his own. It was a bit expensive for one person, so it finally felt appropriate to go now that he had Will, beautiful and radiant, tucked to his side.

He just could not believe his luck. How easily they had opened up to one another, how simple it had been to slide into Will's bed and learn about his nightmares and pull the boy to him and just hold him. It'd never in his life been so easy to connect with another person. Looking over, Will was flush with happiness, hair curling softly around his cheeks and settling over another scarf that most certainly didn't belong to him.

Will picked up the scarf in his long fingers, running it gently over his lips as they made their way through town. His usual timidity was gone, replaced by the pressing need to be as close to Frederick as possible. He had wrapped himself close, arm snaking around Frederick's waist. It made it difficult to walk, but he couldn't be bothered to care. 

"You… really went all out," Will breathed, a hint of amazement in his voice. He wasn't really used to being spoiled like this. Growing up in shipyards left you bereft of any sense of luxury, any pressing need to indulge in the finer aspects of life. It was bizarre that Will had even stumbled into art. 

“I didn’t.” Frederick pressed. “This place cooks with local food, and it looks really good… and I don’t know. I wanted to treat you…” He flushed, looking down as they arrived and he opened the door. “This day is for you, Will.” He gave Will a small kiss on the cheek, hand hovering over his lower back before he encouraged Will inside.

The inside was a small room, warmly lit with wooden walls and floors and dark cherry tables around the outside. The lighting was dim and, Frederick noticed, it gave off a _very_ romantic atmosphere. He had anticipated this, but not entirely prepared for it. He nervously tugged at his hair, pulling it in front of his eyes as he addressed the host, a tall elderly gentleman with a polite smile.

“Chilton for six o’clock?” He hadn't meant for it to be a question, but he wasn’t particularly used to making reservations. The man smiled widely, nodding and gesturing to a table by the window.

“This way please, sir.” _Sir_. Frederick felt a small glow, and he looked at Will, hand pressed to his waist as he nodded for Will to move ahead.

Will headed to the table, head turning in all different angles to take in the restaurant. This was definitely fancier than anything he’d ever experienced, everything was so polished and clean. He was almost wary to touch the gleaming wood of the table, fearing the roughness of his hands my leave behind scratches and scuffs in their wake. He and his father had never eaten in decent restaurants. They’d spent a lot of time in diners and truck-stops, eating the same pancakes and drinking the same black coffee again and again.

Sitting, he smiled deliriously at Frederick. His happiness radiated around him, surrounding him like a soft glow. “It’s weird being called sir,” he laughed, nodding politely as the host set down their menus and told them of the day’s specials. “I’ve spent so much time as a loser college kid drinking beer and getting high, sometimes I forget I’m a real live adult.”

Frederick’s fingers slid across the table when the waiter had left and he grasped Will’s in his, beaming. “I’m content to live both of those lives, really. I think the blanket fort proves that.”

Dinner was exquisite; hearty and rich but small enough portions that neither of them felt too full afterwards. They sat for a good couple of hours, bumping knees and finding excuses to hold hands as they polished off a bottle a bottle of wine. When it was nearly nine, Frederick stood to pay the bill and use the bathroom. 

“I’ll be right back, and then I thought we’d head up to the party for a bit?” He squeezed Will’s hands. “But not for too long, if you don’t want to…” He looked away, feeling a little awkward. “I feel like that blanket fort is calling our name.” He laughed, glancing back up. 

Will blushed, nodding. The blanket fort was absolutely calling to him. Dinner was amazing, but he couldn’t help but long for the warm nest they’d hidden in for much of the afternoon. Besides, there were other things he’d like to spend his night doing… a thought which made him color even further. 

“I think there’s definitely more exploring to do in that fort,” he hummed, hoping Frederick understood the insinuation.

When it came to sex, Will was wildly inexperienced. When he was young, growing up in the sweet, humid air of Baton Rouge, he’d been far too timid to approach the boys he’d found attractive. Instead he watched them from afar, dreaming of a world where he was brave enough to ask for what he wanted. There had been a few rushed experiences since then, frenzied handjobs in smoky bars, a series of pretty unsatisfactory blow jobs between Will and a TA Alana had tried to set him up with...but nothing any farther than that.

Here though, with Frederick, he knew that this was too important to miss out on. While he may not have been ready to make direct demands and requests, he could at least make an attempt to communicated what he wanted.

Frederick coloured, eyes widening as he nodded and leaned down to press a slow kiss to the corner of Will’s mouth. When he pulled back he looked very pleased, and very in love, and he pulled away with great reluctance. He glanced over his shoulder once more before traversing to the front of the restaurant to find the washrooms.

“ _Hello Will_.”

Will was alone not more than a minute before the familiar voice floated to him from very near, a dulcet whisper that was pleasant and buttered on the ears. When Will turned his head to discover the source, he found Hannibal Lecter seated at the table behind theirs, leaning over the back of his chair and giving Will a wolfish smile. He looked very at home lounging against the expensive furniture, his entire character radiating wealth.

“It sounds like you’re having a good time. What a coincidence, running into you here. As you can see I never made it to the city.”

Will turned slowly, eyes wide. The sound of Hannibal’s voice was like feeling ice water run down his spine, startling and unpleasant.

“Hannibal,” he choked, unable to shake the feeling that he’d been followed. “What...I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Hannibal’s smile was even but he was unable to hide the predatory gleam in his eyes. He shifted his chair closer and leaned further over the back, face much closer to Will’s as he studied the boy.

“It didn’t seem worth going if I couldn’t bring you with me.” He said somberly, sighing and clasping his hands. He gave Will a considering look. “You know, Will, that I think you’re very talented… I meant to ask you earlier. I would be honoured to collaborate with you, or to at least spend more time working with you.” He caught Will’s gaze, eyes boring into him intently. “I’ll be honest. It worries me to see you putting your trust in Frederick. Not that he isn’t a very sweet and talented boy.”

Will turned in his chair, thoroughly confused. “What do you mean?” Despite not understanding Hannibal’s intentions, he already felt a bright flare of annoyance at his words. “He’s _very_ trustworthy. I’ve never met anyone else who I could rely on, not like him…”

Hannibal held up his hands, trying to calm Will’s temper. “I only mean to suggest he might not be the best influence for you concerning your work. I am sure he is a very wonderful and complex person.” He tilted his head. “But he isn’t nearly as motivated as you or I, Will.” Hannibal turned his chair to face Will, clasping the boys hands in his. “I implore you to consider my words. I do not say these things lightly. You have a wonderful gift, and I do not wish to see it squandered.”

On the other side of the restaurant Frederick emerged from the washroom and headed to pay, finding their waiter at a console. He smiled when Frederick approached. “Would you like to settle up, sir?” 

Frederick laughed and nodded, pulling out his wallet. “If you don’t mind. And I have to say, it’s really something to be called sir. I’m not used to it.” He handed over his card, face flushed. The waiter smiled in understanding, running his card through the machine.

“We understand there are a lot of students here, but its our policy to treat everyone equally. We’d call you sir regardless of your age… sir.” Frederick laughed, and the waiter chimed in. The man certainly knew how to get a good tip, Frederick thought, signing the receipt. 

“Well then I’m lucky, aren’t I, to have come here?” And he was feeling lucky. The whole day had gone marvellously, and was set to end wonderfully as well. He longed to be curled up with Will in their safe nest in the living room. He wanted to kiss him some more, and find what they’d had that night on the dock. Will was a vision, glowing and smiling all day, fingers constantly touching Frederick in any way he could.

Glancing up, his brow immediately furrowed. Hannibal Lecter had appeared as though out of nowhere.He was sitting with Will, holding him with two hands, their faces far too near for Frederick’s liking. His shoulder was an elegant curve as he leaned towards Will, his eyes earnest and his skin glowing oddly in the dim light. Frederick gave the waiter a polite smile and headed over, sliding his wallet into his pocket.

“Will, is everything alright?” His hand slid gently over the other boy’s shoulder, pointedly staring down to where two sets of hands were clasped. Hannibal looked up with annoyance, clearly not bothered that he was overstepping an obvious boundary.

“Hello, Frederick.” His voice was cold. “I was just talking to Will about his future as an artist. He’s very promising…”

Will looked up at Frederick, trying to broadcast his discomfort with his eyes. “Are you ready to go?” He gently pulled his hands out of Hannibal’s, standing and moving closer to his roommate. “Hannibal, it was great seeing you, I’m sorry again I had to turn you down. I’m sure I’ll see you at school this week, okay?”

Grabbing the sleeve of Frederick’s jacket, he tugged him eagerly to the door. “Please walk fast,” he said, clearly anxious. “He asked me out the other day, apparently he didn’t like that I said no? I really think he came here to spy on us.” Will was terrible with confrontation, it had been hard enough telling Hannibal he’d already had a date scheduled when he’d been invited to the art show. Now though, this crowded feeling of being confronted, it was making him sick.

When they walked outside he pulled his wallet out, seeing if they had enough for a taxi. “Oh man I really wish we were in that blanket fort right now,” he said, giving a frightened little laugh.

“Hey…” Frederick tightened an arm around Will’s waist, pulling him close. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s a short walk. Are… are you afraid he’s dangerous? Has he been following you?” His voice had gotten low, eyes heavy with a building fury at the very idea that that lunatic was scaring Will.

The sound of the heavy wooden door was loud behind them and they both turned to see Hannibal, standing with his face in a grim smile. He walked slowly towards them and Frederick moved to stand in front of Will, a furious look on his face.

“Look, Hannibal, I think it’s pretty clear you’ve been a bit pushy. You’re making Will uncomfortable. Can’t you see that?” He was trying to remain calm for Will’s sake, but all the dislike he had for Hannibal was coming to a head and he longed to put him in his place. “Can you maybe leave us alone, or is that going to be a problem for you?”

Hannibal smirked, offering a graceful shrug of his shoulders. “I merely have Will’s best interests in mind. I worry about him, you know. He’s a charming boy with so much darkness inside of him aching to get out. Meanwhile he surrounds himself with you, simple and committed to your _knitting_. He’s a true artist, Frederick. If he could just dig deeper, succumb to his nightmares...he’d be absolutely unstoppable.”

Will twisted his hand in the back of Frederick’s shirt, holding tight to him. “Don’t talk about my dreams like they’re some gift I have,” he hissed. “They’re _fucking awful_ , and Frederick is _always_ there to help me through them. I don’t need to embrace them, I need someone to help ground me once I wake up. And that’s not going to be you.”

Hannibal looked bemused, clasping his hands behind his back. “You seem to trust Frederick immensely, Will.”

Will eyed him warily. Where was he going with this?

“It’s good that you have a roommate you can tell everything too. He said you were quite relieved when you told him about your autism for the first time.”

Will felt like he’d been punched in the gut. All of the oxygen rushed out of his body, leaving him weak and shaking. The hand in Frederick’s shirt dropped down to his side.

“You...told him?” he asked softly, swaying slightly at the weight of the information.

Rage shot through Frederick and he nearly lurched forward, ready to take a swing.

“ _What?_ ” He turned to Will, hand tightening on him. “Of course not! Don’t you think I know better than to share something like that?” There was something dark building in him. He might’ve killed Hannibal if he’d been close enough.

“Will, I would _never_. Who else did you tell? It can’t have been just me!” Helpless and furious, he grabbed Will by the shoulders. “Hey! _Look at me!_ ” Will was shaking now and Frederick’s heart felt like stone. He turned his gaze to Hannibal. “You’d really make up something like that? You’re _miserable_. Pathetic!”

Will jerked back, caught between misery and fury. “You’re the _only_ one I told!” he cried, pushing roughly at Frederick’s chest to get him away. As Frederick staggered back, Will broke free and stepped away. “You… I’ve never told anyone!” he shouted, voice breaking. “And now I finally do, and this is what you fucking do? What, am I your super hip mentally challenged boyfriend? I’m some socially awkward kid that makes you seem really cool and selfless?”

He quickly wiped his eyes, stepping back. “Fuck this. I’m out of here.” He turned on his heel, taking off at a run.

“Fuck- no! _Will_!” Frederick’s immediate instinct was to run after him, but the hurt in Will’s eyes… the betrayal. Watching him go, Will was lost to the dark in seconds. Frederick wasn’t even sure where he’d go. Panicked and furious beyond all belief, he rounded on Hannibal, who was chuckling lowly, arms clasped neatly behind his back.

“Aren’t you going to go after him? He trusted you…” Frederick was on him in seconds, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him forward as he sent a knee straight into his gut. Hannibal doubled over with a grunt, but when he looked up at Frederick he still had the same pleased grin on his face, though his hair had fallen into his face.

Feeling the sting of this added insult, Frederick’s voice came out as a roar as he pulled his fist back, aiming right for Hannibal’s smug mouth. 

It happened so fast he was barely aware of it. The man moved too quickly for Frederick to see, grabbing his wrist and sending his fist flying too far in the wrong direction. Unbalanced, he tried to crouch to retain his centre of gravity, but a foot hooked against his ankle and had him on his ass in seconds. Dizzy, he slid his arms out and tried to lift himself up but it all slowed down and he felt it before he even saw it; Hannibal’s boot, perfectly shiny and buffed, cracking against his nose and fracturing it instantly.

His head bounced against the pavement and he let out a dazed wail. He heard that low chuckle again and slowly opened his eyes, though the world seemed to spin around him. Hannibal stared down with that infernal smirk, hands in his pockets a he eased one boot over Frederick’s outstretched fingers. He hissed and tried to pull away, but Hannibal only pushed harder. Frederick felt the joints rubbing together and he gasped helplessly, malice gone from his voice as he begged Hannibal to ease off.

“You’ll always disappoint him Frederick. Isn’t this better? You’ll never have to worry about that now. Will belongs with someone who knows how to hone his strengths. You’ll slow him down.” Frederick turned on his side, dripping blood all over the pavement as he shook with renewed rage.

“ _Fuck you._ ” He spat the words, but Hannibal had stepped back, looking at him sadly.

“You poor thing…” He crouched down, meeting Frederick’s eyes. “ _Learn your place._ ”

Frederick listened to him step away, his expensive shoes making a gentle clicking on the cobbles as Frederick took a shuddering breath and rolled onto his stomach. Blood streamed continuously onto the ground, and he lifted his scarf to his nose to quell the flow, standing unsteadily and beginning a slow walk back to the house. 

_How_ could Hannibal know? How could he? Frederick hadn’t breathed a word- _wouldn’t_ breath a word, to anybody. If Will said he didn’t tell anyone else, how could Hannibal just know? And how could Will believe him? Believe that Frederick would think so little of that secret. He had known it was important, up there on the picnic table, looking over the whole town. The moment had been important, special. Will wouldn’t have told him unless he trusted him. Didn’t he know that Frederick knew that?

He’d had no idea the extent to which Hannibal was obsessed with Will. That he’d asked him out, that Will had turned him down. Why hadn’t Will told him what was going on? Why did it feel like there was so much missing information? While he and Will had been happily falling in love, other things had begun to grow around them. There were other pieces to the puzzle Hannibal had been constructing. 

As he arrived at home, he found it dark and empty. He washed his face in the bathroom. The blood had mostly stopped, but a violet bruise had spread from the bridge of his nose to under his eyes. His lip was bleeding and there was a clean slice over the bridge of his nose that looked particularly gruesome. He sighed and shut the light off, dropping his ruined scarf on the floor in the hall. The living room twinkled, blankets still strung up just as they’d left them. It seemed worthless now. Will seemed convinced he’d gamble anything to impress Hannibal. The thought disgusted him. If it was so easy for Will to accept Hannibal’s word, how difficult was it going to be to get him to listen to Frederick- to believe him?

He wandered outside and sat on the porch, mind racing as he tried to imagine where he’d find the other boy. He didn’t want to be found, at least not by Frederick, so that eliminated all their usual spots. Standing, he thumped down the stairs and into the street, starting the climb up the hill to the party, where he’d at least find their friends. It was as good a place as any to start looking.

 

Will sat miserably on the edge of some absent stranger's bed, listening to the party rage on below him. A house full of people stumbling, screaming, and dancing, and he'd never felt more alone. The news of Frederick's betrayal was heavy, lancing through him like a hot knife. He felt cold, empty… yet still so hopelessly in love. He couldn’t understand the juxtaposition of it, the way he still _needed_ Frederick’s arms around him, yet didn’t want to have to look him in the eye. Was love always so painful?

That morning the feeling had brought him a swelling joy. One he'd never felt before. Now he felt nothing but agony. 

Alana sat next to him, rubbing a soothing palm over his back. "This can't be what it looks like, Will. Frederick adores you. And I know for a fact how happy you are when you're with him. I don't believe he'd share that information with someone we know he hates." 

Will shrugged, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. "He's the only person here who knew. I hadn't even told you, so who else would know?" He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. "Today was so perfect, I was so happy…"

"We'll fix this," she said firmly. "Something isn't adding up."

Jimmy poked his head in, looking anxious. "Frederick's here, he's determined to come talk to you. Also we're too drunk to keep him out. Sorry Will."

Will looked up, nerves clear on his face. Just what he needed, more confrontation.

 

Frederick's boots thumped loudly as he paced the deck, smoking furiously and trying to decide what he was going to do. It was so easy for Hannibal to convince Will of Frederick's betrayal... But if he really hadn't told anyone else, how could Hannibal have known? Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and he flicked his cigarette away, staring at his feet with clenched fists as he tried to compose himself.

The noises from inside the house suddenly became louder as the front door swung open and Beverly teetered out, a red cup grasped loosely between two fingers. Frederick was upon her in seconds, fingers digging into her shoulders as he bore down on her.

" _Bev_!" The tears came more easily now and he was wracked with pain as his sobbing put pressure on his nose, still sliced across the bridge and welling with blood. "Is he in there? I need to see him!" He closed his eyes and swallowed, dropping his head between his outstretched arms.

"Whoa," Beverly breathed, letting him fall into her arms. "Slow down, I've been drinking." She tilted his chin up, examining the deep laceration across the bridge of his nose. Plucking her sweater off, she pressed it to his face. "Shit, did Hannibal do this to you? Look, everyone knows about Will now, which, no-one cares duh. But we also know that you totally didn't tell him. You hate that dude, why would you?"

Brian stepped out, high as a kite. "Jim locked Will in the room so he can't escape before you talk to him," he informed them, giggling. "You better hurry, he’s going to break the door down if we leave him in there too long.”

He stepped closer to Frederick, eyes wide. "Damn, he kicked your ass. "

Breathing a sigh of relief, Frederick tilted his head back, allowing Beverly to dab at his nose. 

"Yes, well I gave it a shot but that guy is fast... If I see him I'm gonna kill him..." He pushed away from Beverly, a hand on her shoulder. "I'm fine, I'm fine… Can I see him please? I need him to know it wasn't me!" He squeezed Bev’s shoulder apologetically, grateful for her constant mentoring, though his anxiety remained an immovable force.

His eyes were frantic where they met hers. He hoped he didn't look too wild, but everything rode on his seeing Will. Panic was coursing through him still but he was lethargic and woozy from his earlier burst of adrenaline.

Beverly shrugged. "Told you, I'm drunk. I'm not going to be the one to stop you if you want to see him. Just be careful, I think more than anything he's scared right now." 

Frederick nodded, grasping his head as the pain finally started to kick in. He slid past Brian and into the house and the overwhelming noise crowded in, squeezing his already aching brain. He took the stairs two at a time.

Upstairs Will was slamming his fists against the door, frantic to escape the bedroom he'd been hiding in. "Jimmy let me out!" He wailed, eyes wet behind his glasses. "Just let me go home, I want to go home!"

There were muffled voices on the other side of the door and then it was Frederick who burst through, wide-eyed and stumbling into Will as the door was slammed behind him. 

"Will..." There were tears in his eyes and he grasped onto the other boy tightly, swaying on the spot. " _Will, Will_..." He whispered again, face a grimace as his fingers flexed on tense shoulders. "I thought I'd never find you... I _wouldn't_ , I would _never, Will_..."

Will looked as if he'd been slapped, eyes wide as he stumbled back. The backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed, causing him to lose his balance and sit down hard. 

"I can't… I can't do this," he choked. "I can't be the weird one, the one everyone pities or tries to fix or play therapist with. _Everybody_ knows now. I can't fucking handle that." 

He looked up, heartbreak evident in his eyes. "You could have told anyone else, and I'd get over it. But… him?"

Frederick fell to his knees in front of Will, aching to touch him again but keeping his arms at his sides. Will clearly _hated_ him…

“Hannibal loathes me! He thinks I’m worthless- that my work is useless! Nevermind that I am _aware_ of the importance of what you told me, and I don’t know how to make you understand I’d never tell anyone! Least of all Hannibal, who made it quite clear earlier he thinks I’m _below_ you, not worthy of you. He certainly put me in my place.” Frederick’s eyes fell to the floor, remembering the exact moment his head had cracked against the pavement, the sickening snick as Hannibal’s boot had met his face. The absolute _truth_ in Hannibal’s words. He _wasn’t_ enough for Will, wasn’t motivated or talented enough to be on his level. But it didn’t make him any less capable of loving his roommate.

“You’re _not_ weird. They don’t pity you. You’re friends love you. I…” He paused, feeling the blood rush to his head. He leaned forward, squeezing his eyes shut and steadying himself with a hand on the ground. “I…. wanted to tell you.” Blood dripped onto his jeans and he pushed his hand onto his face, a distressed noise escaping him. “Sorry, I’m disgusting. I went home, and you weren’t there…” He slid back, sitting on the hardwood with his hands hanging between his knees.

“Will…” The tears came again, steady and silent, stinging over his nose.

Will’s breath caught in his throat, heart hammering in his chest. This didn’t make sense. These weren’t the words of someone who could so carelessly betray his secrets. Frederick’s pain was so real, it filled the room and forced its way down his throat, nearly choking him with its sincerity. 

Will carefully slid onto the floor, swallowing hard. He took Frederick’s face in his hands, gently tilting his chin up. With featherlight touched he wiped away the tears streaming down his cheeks, leaning in once he was done to press their foreheads together.

“You know the fucked up part?” he whispered, looking down. He couldn’t meet Frederick’s eyes, couldn’t handle the pain and intensity he found there. “The _really_ fucked up part? Is that you _could_ have told him, and I’d still love you…” He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “You could do anything, hurt me in any way, and I’d still feel so completely lost when I look at you.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t…” Frederick murmured, swallowing against the tears. “I don’t know how he knows, but he _does_. And I didn’t….” His voice was a broken sob, and his face stung as he grimaced, leaning into Will’s touch. “I love you, and I would _never_ …” He seemed to be stuck on repeat, unsure how to really convince Will, despite the evidence, that he would never forget how important that moment had been. That it was when he’d known what he felt with complete clarity. That he wanted Will at his side, that it was right and good, and they could have this.

“I want this so much. I would never sacrifice it for anything.” His hands came up to cover Will’s, turning his palms up to press small kisses there, tasting his own tears. “I don’t know how to make you see…”

Will’s face softened, taking in the distress in every movement Frederick made, every word he said. The shock of the situation wearing off, clarity began to creep back into the edges of his vision. This was _Frederick_. Frederick, who had barely said two words to him the first few months of their living together. How would it make sense for him to run to Hannibal, a man he hated, and give him information he had been honoured to learn? More importantly, this was the man who had gone so out of his way to plan a blanket fort, who had hidden away from the world and held him close and kissed him and soothed away all his doubts and fears about himself.

The Frederick he knew wouldn’t hurt him like that. Will knew he wouldn’t.

Pulling him closer, Will slid his arms around Frederick’s shaking form to run soothing hands along his back. “I know, I know,” he whispered, tears springing to his own eyes. “It’s okay, I know. I’m sorry, I just… I was shocked, and the idea that maybe you weren’t who I thought nearly killed me. But you are, you’re so much _more_ than anything I could dream up. You wouldn’t do that to me, I trust you.” He pulled back slightly so he could brush a soft kiss against Frederick’s lips. “I love you,” he whispered, feeling the ache in his chest that came with the realization that it was blindingly true. He loved Frederick to a degree he could barely cope with.

A whimper of relief came from deep within, and Frederick collapsed, head resting on Will’s shoulder. Gently, he brushed his fingers through Will’s curls, lips pressing into a warm neck. Will’s pulse jumped beneath his lips and he sighed, fresh tears welling. His hands became desperate, clinging to Will and pulling him closer.

“I need you…” Frederick’s voice was only a gasp. “Love you… _love you_ …” Frederick was heavy against Will now, weakened from the fight he’d lost and his overwrought heart. He’d been so close to losing Will. A hair’s breadth. If he saw Hannibal again… He’d make him _pay_.

“Can we go home, please?” Frederick finally looked up, eyes heavy and tired, mouth a sad smile. His fingers laced with Will’s and he eased forward, tilting his face carefully to avoid more pain. His lips met Will’s, unhurried, gentle.

Will hummed softly into the kiss, bringing his hand up to gently cradle the back of Frederick’s head. He pulled away, frowning as his fingertips gently slid over his scalp. “That...is that a _knot_?” he asked, eyes growing wider. He finally let his eyes rest on Frederick’s wounds; the bruises blossoming around both eyes, the slightly off-tilt to his nose.

“Did he...oh my God what did he do to you?” Will asked, frantic. “Your _nose_!”

Frederick hummed, pressing forward with narrowed eyes. “I lost a fight…” He whispered against Will’s lips. He kissed lazily, sleepy now that his panic had abated, the loss and fear gone but still close. “He knew I thought I’d lost you… He kicked me like a dog…” His words were cold, but a smile graced his lips, and he pressed it to Will’s mouth. 

“But he doesn’t know what I have. He wants you… but he doesn’t want you as you are. He wants to change you, develop your night-terrors.” His lips moved to Will’s neck. “Doesn’t he see what you are now?” _Magnificent… stunning Will_ … His breath was hot over Will’s neck. 

“Can we go home?” He asked again, arms sliding around Will’s waist to pull him into a proper hug, heart full now that Will was pressed against him, _knew_ he wouldn’t have betrayed their friendship. Trusted him, on his own. Without proof. _Loved_ him.

“We absolutely can,” Will murmured, kissing him once more. “We’re going to crawl into our fort and we are _never_ coming out.”


	8. Chapter 8

Getting his footing, Frederick linked his arm with Will's and pulled him towards the road. "Let's go home.” He tucked Will tight against his side as they tried to get their footsteps in time on the steep hill down into the town. Will was shivering in the light snowfall. "What, no jacket? It's snowing for christ's sake!" Frederick pulled away briefly to unwrap his scarf and wind it around Will's neck. It was so big on him it started right under his chin and spilled out over his shoulders, and Frederick thought the mossy green looked very good on him. Will, with his eyes still glowing blue from his anxiety and his cheeks flushed a light rose, was pulled back tight to Frederick's side.

Will shivered slightly, letting himself be pushed and pulled and directed as Frederick liked. “I left it at the restaurant. Fuck it, let Hannibal keep it as a memento.” Frederick felt warm and comfortable next to him, a dizzying change from just a few moments ago when Will nearly crawled out of his own skin just to get away. He glanced over, eyebrows knit. “Your nose...he got you good.” Part of him was worried that Frederick needed a doctor, needed to make sure there was no fracture or concussion. He was too desperate to restore what they’d had though, too desperate to hide from the world together.

The snow was clinging to his eyelashes, blurring his vision, but by now he knew the way home well enough to find it on reflex alone. Frederick was a strong, reassuring presence against him, so aware despite the all they’d been through that night, and Will had waited for _so_ long. He just wanted to submit, be guided, finally let go and let his feelings take him. With that playing in his mind he slid an arm around Frederick’s waist, tucking it just inside his shirt to touch his warm skin.

"Like ice!" Frederick teased, acting very put upon, but his arm tightened around Will. It had only been less than an hour ago he'd been walking the same path, terrified and desperate. Now he was a bit dizzy and bloodied, but so _complete _, he could barely fathom it.__

__The walk down to the house was short but Frederick pulled the scarf over Will's head like a hood to shield him from the wet snowflakes. They lived on the same main street that curved through the town and they soon arrived. Their home loomed tall and skeletal in the dark but immense relief washed through Frederick as they donned the steps. The party, his pain and his regrettable actions seemed so far away._ _

__Will had his key out first, fumbling slightly as the cold had numbed his fingertips. With a sigh of relief he opened the door, securing it once they'd both stepped into the inky darkness of the foyer. He took a moment to switch on a few lights, finally stopping to stand in the middle of the living room._ _

__Turning to face Frederick, a look of vulnerability settled over him. He was flooded with relief now that they had straightened things out, now that they had both forgiven each other...but where did they go now? In the chilled house everything felt brittle, tenuous. He desperately wanted to go to Frederick, nuzzle into him, borrow some of his heat. He wanted to kiss him, to shake him, to make sure he fully understood the extent of Will's feelings for him. But was it too soon, after everything they'd just gone through?_ _

__"So," he breathed, offering an anxious smile. "What now?"_ _

__Long fingers slid around Will’s shoulder and pulled the boy closer so Frederick could bump their forehead together. He smiled, heart pounding furiously with nerves, but now that they had been forced to admit their feelings, everything else seemed to come quite naturally. Will let himself be pulled, falling into the warmth of Frederick’s body._ _

__“I mean, maybe I’m misreading things, but I think everything was going pretty well before you-know-who showed up...I’d say we had a pretty great night.”_ _

__Frederick hummed in agreement, his hand finding Will’s and interlocking their fingers. With an easy tug he led them to the couch, sitting and drawing Will near._ _

__“Knowing you, I’d say you’re reading things spot-on.” He slid his nose against the other boy’s before pressing a small warm kiss below his right eye. The hand on Will’s shoulder slid up to drag through the hair at the base of the boy’s scalp, tugging gently and causing goosebumps to spread out along Will’s body. He could feel Will’s nerves, the shivers at Frederick’s touches, the quickness of his breath where it ghosted along Frederick’s jaw. A wave of excitement moved over him and he hummed again, pressing another kiss along Will’s cheek, and another just below his ear. He continued, moving along a stubbly jaw and then hovering teasingly over Will’s plush lips before continuing downwards over his adam’s apple._ _

__He didn’t mean to torment Will, but having had to share their feelings so abruptly, Frederick felt justified in dragging this out and working Will up. Anything to get the other boy’s mind off of the troubling events of the evening. Plus, Frederick loved the way Will seemed to unconsciously reach for him, jutting his chin forward and biting his lips. Frederick smirked against his skin, abandoning Will’s lax hand in favour of running it up the pale column of a bared throat. He could feel Will’s frantic heartbeat under his palm, and with a thumb he tilted Will’s head to the side so he could lean down to suck gently at the pulse point. His anger had become far-away and removed from him but he was still feeling pent up and delinquent, revelling in dragging this out though he wanted nothing more than the sweet taste of Will’s lips under his own._ _

__Will was racked by a shudder that tore through his whole body. It started low, right at his core before reverberating through every inch of his being. His head was spinning again, but this time it was a pleasant sort of dizziness. His mouth felt dry, lips parted as his breath ghosted between them in quick bursts. It was exactly how he'd always imagined this would go._ _

__He'd always felt like such a waste, like some unlit fuse that was completely useless. Frederick… Frederick was a bright, burning spark, volatile and beautiful. It stood to reason that Will would burn up the moment he got close enough. He felt it now, like he was on fire, heat licking his skin wherever Frederick pressed his lips. He felt pliant, perfect. As much as he wanted Frederick's lips on his, he was even more desirous to see where patience would lead him._ _

__He somehow managed to slide closer, tucking one leg under him so he could turn into the onslaught. "Should have known you'd be a fucking tease," he muttered, sliding his rough palms along Frederick's back._ _

__Frederick grinned, feeling ruinous and hungry. He adored the way Will turned to him, pressed against him, spoke cheeky remarks even as he trembled under Frederick’s touch. With a dark chuckle, he scooped a hand under Will’s ass and pulled the smaller man into his lap. He tugged him close, Will’s knees sliding next to his hips as they fit snuggly together._ _

__“Not so much as you think.” Frederick replied darkly, taking advantage of the boy’s new elevation as he sucked under Will’s jaw and rolled his hips tellingly upwards. His hands slid under a loose shirt, smoothing over the planes of Will’s back as he continued to tease at pale skin, humming his appreciation of Will’s shivers and gasps._ _

__Will moaned helplessly, unable to resist grinding down against Frederick’s hips. He wanted to submit, to give him everything he wanted as that wicked mouth teased along his skin. But God-damn, he’d wanted this for so long, he was going to get his way-at least a small bit of it. Pulling back slightly, he cupped Frederick’s face in his hands, forcing him to look up. Will met his eyes, hoping the fondness and utter _hopelessness_ he felt over all of this was evident. He was lost, so completely lost. There would be no going back from this, not now._ _

__Smiling softly at Frederick’s wide eyes, Will gently swiped his thumb over high cheekbones, taking a moment to scrutinize the violet bruises and angry looking cut. Frederick’s eyes were heavy lidded, his lips parted and pliant. When Will had drunk his fill he leaned in, softly brushing his lips over Frederick’s._ _

__It was perfect. He would spend his life dwelling on the absolute aching softness of that press of their lips, the way he sweetly mouthed at Frederick’s lower lip before shyly licking at the corner of his mouth. His hands slid down to stroke along Frederick’s shoulders, down his biceps before coming back up to wrap around his neck and hold him close. Will was gone-he was utterly, hopelessly fucked. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t kissed before, hadn’t clung to each other and explored wet, eager mouths, but this kiss...this kiss felt like a seal, like they were finally promising themselves to one another. This kiss forged their bond, assured them that there was no escaping how deeply they loved._ _

__Groaning weakly Frederick melted into Will, arms encircling a slim waist as he sat up straighter and returned the kiss ardently. Their mouths moved with surety, the room seeming to disappear around them as all attention was focused on the slow press and the soft sighs and the sense of relief that hung heavily over them._ _

__As he licked delicately into a pliant mouth Frederick tasted Will, sweet and soft against his tongue. That combined with the way Will moaned and sighed against him pulled a shuddering gasp from Frederick whose hands on Will suddenly became possessive and gripping. He pulled back, hand coming up to grasp Will’s chin again as he leered with dark eyes and licked his lips._ _

__“ _Delicious_ ,” He murmured, mouth curved into a dangerous smile. His hands had become grabby again, sliding under a lithe thigh and wrapping around Will’s back as he lifted and turned them, pushing Will back into the cushions and slithering between his legs. Again he hummed, a happy and contented droning against Will’s throat as his lips moved up again and finally captured the other man’s in a sound, breathless kiss. All doubts and insecurities melted away. There was just something about Will that demanded affirmative action, self-assurance and a firm hand. Every confident slide of Frederick’s hands on his thighs or his waist or his throat seemed to send Will into fit of carnal submission; all soft sighs and low moans and lips parted open and inviting. Frederick wanted to _devour/i > him.__ _

___Will tangled his fingers in Frederick’s mess of dark hair, clinging to him with wild desperation as they kissed. He’d never felt passion like this, never felt such a raw, mind-bending need to consume and be consumed. He wanted all of the boy on top of him, every beautiful, terrifying thing he had to offer. With a helpless cry he pressed up, needing to feel as much of him as possible._ _ _

___“Come on, fort, let’s go to the fort,” he begged, eyes wide and hungry behind his glasses. “I’ve wanted this for-fucking-ever, let’s at least move off of the couch.”_ _ _

___Before Frederick could answer Will pulled him down for another searing kiss, hands seemingly everywhere at once. He slid them firmly along his back, sliding further down to explore the curve of his ass, the tops of his thighs. The whole time he was panting and whimpering helplessly, mindless with need._ _ _

___“Fuck!” Frederick cursed, rolling his hips down to meet Will’s. What had begun as slow and teasing had developed into a blind wantonness. With a tight arm around Will’s waist and a firm hand under his thigh, Frederick stood somewhat unsteadily and headed to the careful construction of blankets and pillows that had been set up just for that night._ _ _

___“Thank God it’s downstairs, I’m not carrying you up those steps-” Frederick paused to press Will into the wall, licking into his mouth and rolling against him and nearly knocking a lamp over in the process. They cut a path of destruction across the living room, scattering school books and term papers, spilling a cup of water that had been left out, almost tripping over._ _ _

___Finally, after groping blindly with Will’s lips moving distractingly over his throat, Frederick found the makeshift hideout and flicked on the dim fairy lights that had been strung up. Instantly he had Will pressed into the nest of pillows, arms held above his head as he pinned the other boy down and found his lips again. Rolling and pressing against his hips lewdly, Frederick hissed at the contact, speechless under the force of his arousal._ _ _

___Will cried out into his mouth, eyebrows knit as he rutted against Frederick’s hips. He couldn’t remember ever being this hard, ever being _so_ ready to go _sooff_ ,” Will begged, sliding his hands down his sides, feeling every soft bump where a rib jutted under delicate skin. His hands traveled to Frederick’s hips, grabbing tight and giving a hard squeeze. He wanted to leave bruises. _Needed_ to leave reminders of this night, just in case they both caught some bizarre amnesia in the morning and couldn’t remember. He wanted Frederick to bite searing marks into him, to brand him, to _claim_ him. Hannibal Lecter wasn’t the only one who could leave bruises, and Frederick Chilton was _his_. He was Frederick’s._ _ _

___There was nothing for it, once the thought invaded his mind it was all he wanted. He needed to feel the sharp, searing lines of teeth in his skin. _Needed_ to wake up in the morning covered in deep purple marks. With a gasp he gripped Frederick’s shoulders, eyes frantic._ _ _

___“Mark me?” he begged, fear and arousal dancing together in his voice._ _ _

___With a growl, Frederick leaned in to give a bruising kiss, tugging at a bottom lip with his teeth before he retreated. His hands were firm when they grabbed Will, and it was with little effort that he turned the boy over and straddled his thighs. He sat up, furiously working Will’s shirt off of him and whipping it heedlessly behind him before taking a moment to regard the pale expanse of skin stretched out beneath him. His heart thumped anxiously and his stomach tightened with arousal as he ran his fingers reverently down Will’s spine._ _ _

___“You look incredible like this…” he hummed, rocking forward a little to tease the other boy who was trapped beneath him. He imagined Will’s neck and shoulders, now pale and unblemished, covered with the evidence of Frederick’s devotion, his _ownership_. Frederick knew it wasn’t polite to think of Will in such a way, but there was something exquisitely primal about manhandling him and branding his skin. The thought made him nearly dizzy with lust and suddenly his hands were firm and commanding, fingers in Will’s hair to urge his head to the side as he descended on his skin._ _ _

___He began with slow, open-mouthed kisses behind Will’s ear, breaking contact only to whisper lewdly as he rolled his hips and tugged Will’s curls._ _ _

___“Do you want to be able to _hide_ these?” He asked in an almost mocking tone that suggested the answer didn’t matter. He carried on without waiting for a response, sucking a hard bruise at the juncture of Will’s shoulder and groaning his desire into the reddened skin. When he pulled back, the mark was a light purple and he licked at it before moving up, teeth catching on the cords of Will’s neck as he abused higher and higher, knowing Will would find it impossible to hide them. Each whimper and gasp sent a hot bolt of lust through him and he moaned and pressed his hips down, fingers tight in Will’s hair as he struggled to remain in control of himself._ _ _

___Will cried out, his voice cutting through the silence of the room. This was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. His life was normally so consumed by anxiety and the constant need to second guess himself, but here, with Frederick… for once he was able to let go, to _trust_ that he’d be taken care of. With a broken groan he thrust his hips back, pressing his ass against the erection growing in Frederick’s tight jeans. He was sure he made for a pretty ridiculous sight, loose and wanton and willing to do whatever was asked of him._ _ _

___There was so much he hadn’t done in bed, so many things he’d yet to try. In Baton Rouge his interactions were limited to hasty handjobs in the back of parked cars, needing to get off as far from home as possible so he was never found out. Once he left for college he’d had the chance to explore himself more, but he rarely made connections that led to the bedroom. Here though, now… here he wanted to offer himself up completely, so see where the road would lead._ _ _

___Tangling his hands in the sheets, Will twisted and pulled at the fabric to try and ground himself. He could feel Frederick’s insistent mouth choosing its next spot, carefully deciding the best places to leave marks to remind Will of who had left them there. They were going to catch so much shit from their friends; he was sure they all could see the budding relationship from a mile away, and would never let the boys forget it. Besides, hickeys were _tacky,/i >, everyone learned that in their early teens. Will just couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck, not when the object of so many uncomfortable dreams was currently pushing him down into the bed, laying claim to his body. He _wanted_ to be tacky, wanted to be stupid and silly and completely in love. __ _ _

____“More,” he begged, curls bouncing as he tried to look over his shoulder, fire in his eyes._ _ _ _

____Frederick eased back, biting his lip as he regarded his handiwork. _More_. He wanted _more_. Dizzy with his arousal, he threw away his inhibitions for good, knowing Will would stop him if he went too far. His hands moved swiftly, reaching under Will to nimbly pop the button of his jeans and then with both hands he tugged, pulling the jeans and underwear both down to the back of Will’s thighs. He slid back, giving himself room as he leaned down, mouthing a hot line down Will’s spine until he could sink his teeth into the perfect round of a bared ass cheek._ _ _ _

____“You’re fucking _stunning_.” He growled, kneading the soft flesh of Will’s thighs with anxious fingers._ _ _ _

____Will’s moan swiftly became a broken shout, fingers tugging hard enough to dislodge one corner of the sheet from the mattress. His toes curled, kicking slightly as he wriggled his hips. His cock was aching, trapped between his stomach and the sheets. “Oh my _God_ ,” he panted, eyes heavy lidded. He jerked down as Frederick moved to give the same attention to the other side, gasping into the pillow. _ _ _ _

____It was so sudden, so _fast_ , but it was everything he expected it to be. Frederick was so dark and intense, it would be heartbreaking if that passion and heat didn’t carry over into the bedroom. He was delighted, _more_ than delighted to find that it did. No one else had ever held him down like this and taken. No one had treated him like he was unbreakable, like he was strong and perfectly capable of taking the delicious abuse. It was arousing of course, but it almost made him feel...validated? Finally, he had found someone who truly understood, who was perfectly willing to fulfill his needs. _ _ _ _

____“So good, oh God your mouth is pure fucking _sin_ ,” he breathed. Here, in the height of passion, that Baton Rouge twang was ebbing into his words, turning each syllable into sticky toffee. _ _ _ _

____The air was electric between them, every new point of contact encouraging another gasp or moan. Frederick, for his own part, was completely mindless with his arousal, trapped within his jeans. Impatient, he tugged Will’s pants the rest of the way off and knocked over one of the supportive cushions in his haste to get them away. He leaned down again, kissing the dimples above Will’s bum as his hands smoothed over the soft mounds. When Will began to wriggle beneath him, Frederick gave him a firm smack without even thinking, the sound sharp and abrupt. He immediately palmed the reddening skin, pressing a tender kiss there._ _ _ _

____“C’mere,” He demanded huskily, grabbing Will’s hips and pulling him onto his knees. He smoothed a hand down Will’s back, urging his head back onto the pillows as his other hand busied itself sliding up a trembling thigh to cup Will’s sac._ _ _ _

____“You make me feel absolutely _wicked_ ,” muttered Frederick, voice gruff as his mouth travelled down the long plane of Will’s back to join his fingers, teasingly licking just where Will’s ass met his thigh. “You’ll tell me if this is too much, won’t you?” It was voiced with genuine concern, but was quickly followed by the slide of a hot tongue along his entrance and a tight fist encircling his cock._ _ _ _

____“Of c-course I will, why, what are you going to _oh fuck_.” Will arched his back, hissing at the sensation. It was different, new and bizarre and not entirely unpleasant but so very erotic. He gasped into the pillow, mouth going slack and eyes fluttering shut as he allowed himself to relax and focus on the sensation. He had _absolutely_ never tried this before. Frederick’s tongue was soft and sure as he licked at him, causing little jolts of that strange pleasure up his spine. He felt like there were a thousand things to worry about, a myriad of issues to be self conscious over, but if Frederick didn’t care then why should he?_ _ _ _

____His hand found its way down, pressed between his body and the mattress until it reached his cock, finding Frederick’s hand and wrapping around it. Their fingers intertwined, a messy, slick tangle as Will rocked his hips experimentally._ _ _ _

____“You...are you sure?” he choked, praying Frederick wasn’t just being polite. Because this was good, it was really, _really_ good and he was quite sure he was going to explode from all the new sensations._ _ _ _

____Frederick smirked as Will continued falling apart beneath him. This was new for Will, that much was clear. How much would be new for him? Frederick would have to tread carefully, or perhaps ask. But there was time still. He pressed more insistently with his tongue, knowing what it was to feel this for the first time and feeling something akin to pride at being able to share it with Will. The other boy was so hard between their joined fingers, and Frederick slowed the pace of his hand, not wanting to tip him over the edge too quickly._ _ _ _

____He pulled back to settle more comfortably on the bed and looked down to find Will had clawed the sheets off of the mattress and gathered them around his head. He laughed openly, hand smoothing over a bare cheek._ _ _ _

____“Am I sure? Do you know how it feels to see you undone like this? There is nothing I could ever want more than this. Just look at you…” His fingers slid over Will’s slick opening, pressing gently but not pushing inside. He _wanted_ to but he would have to make sure._ _ _ _

____“I can tell you like being _pushed, commanded_ and thrown around a bit,” Frederick smiled, feeling tender and affectionate as he leaned over Will’s back and pressed kisses along his bruised shoulders. “But I just want to be sure. How much of this is new for you? I love you and I don’t want to hurt you…”_ _ _ _

____Will felt overheated, flushed and burning in a way he’d never experienced before. He was so hungry to give Frederick everything, to roll over and submit and let him _take_. He knew though, knew he had to communicate through it, had to do his best to be open and tell Frederick what he needed to know._ _ _ _

____“It’s...a lot of it is new,” he confessed, too thrilled to be embarrassed. “I uh, didn’t have a lot of opportunity back home to explore things like that. I mean I’ve gotten off with guys, of course I have, I’ve just uh, never let one fuck me yet.” He looked over his shoulder, timidly meeting Frederick’s eyes. “But you could, if you wanted to. I’d um, I’d really like you to.”_ _ _ _

____Frederick’s heart wrenched as he took in Will’s face, the way his body still pressed needily back against him through it all. The weight of responsibility sat heavily on him. Could he do this for Will- his first time? What if it wasn’t good? What if it hurt, or just plain didn’t work? Frederick wanted Will to experience _everything_ , and in the right way. They’d have to go slow now, and the thought of dragging out the pleasure of this made Frederick’s cock ache in his jeans._ _ _ _

____“Yeah…” Frederick breathed, rolling off to the side so he could tip Will on his back, heart still hammering from just how indelicately Will had offered himself, and how easily Frederick’s body had responded with a resounding yes._ _ _ _

____As soon as the new skin was bared Frederick was on him, one leg thrown over his thighs as he ran fingertips lightly down the front of Will’s chest. The other boy’s face was different now; eyes shining with bitten lips and a flush high on his cheek._ _ _ _

____“Look at how _hard_ you are,” he ran his fingers down Will’s sternum, and over the smooth pale skin of his stomach, before dragging through the dark hair that had created a perfect path down to Will’s leaking cock. He took it in hand, sad he’d missed this earlier, to see the way Will’s whole body tensed- from his shoulders to his toes- and raised his hips into Frederick’s grip. Hungrily sucking up the vision, Frederick leaned down to nose over Will’s jaw, pressing slow, open-mouth kisses up until he slid his lips over the other boy’s with a satisfied groan._ _ _ _

____“I have to go upstairs…. “ Frederick pulled away a little breathless, eyes shining darkly at Will. “I have lube upstairs- and condoms.” His hand tightened and Will’s answering gasp made Frederick suck in a breath and lean over him again. It was a theme: his mouth saying one thing and his body doing the opposite, which often resulted in a plethora of mixed signals. Earlier he’d wanted to make sure Will was comfortable but his subconscious needed to see Will blissed out on all fours, submissive and debauched. Now he’d offered to leave- only for a minute!- and his body had rejected the idea, latching onto Will with possessive fingers and teeth._ _ _ _

____He released a ragged groan, wanting to progress but stuck on the sensations. His jeans rubbed roughly over the wet spot that had formed in his underwear and he reached a hand down to tug it away from his skin. Immediately his hands returned to Will, lifting a thigh up to bend as he ran his hands over Will’s sac again, and below, touching with more confidence.  
“Do you have any of that down here? I just don’t seem capable of letting you go… Though I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you yet...”_ _ _ _

____"I, oh fuck I do," Will gasped, entire body curving into Frederick as they devoured each other's mouths. He was hungry to touch, hungry to feel every burning inch of him. He wanted Frederick to use him, to take anything he wanted from Will's body to find his own pleasure. He needed this, needed to experience what he'd dreamed of for so long._ _ _ _

____He leaned in, stealing one more fiery kiss before dragging himself away. With shaking legs he stood, staggering down the hall to his bedroom and to his dresser to riffle around the top drawer. For one terrifying moment he thought he was wrong, yanking out expertly folded boxers and throwing them on the floor in a frenzy. At the last moment he found them: a small foil packet and an unused tube of slick._ _ _ _

____Will crawled back into the tent, offering a shy smile. “I um. After the dock I’d sort of hoped we’d be needing these,” he explained, resting the condom on the pillow before leaning in for a reassuring kiss. Reaching down, he worked on getting Frederick out of his pants. “Off, take them off,” he begged, fingers fighting with the clasp of his jeans. "Fuck, please, need to see you..."_ _ _ _

____Laughing, Frederick joined Will in his efforts, popping the button and lifting his hips to help slide his jeans and boxers off. Once he was freed of them he pulled Will on top of him, hands firm on his waist as he ground up wantonly._ _ _ _

____"Hmm- you look like you _belong_ there" Frederick hissed as their erections slid together, the drag of skin almost too much against Frederick's over sensitive cock. _ _ _ _

____He reached up, capturing Will's lips with a throaty moan as he took the other boy in hand, stroking teasingly as his other hand spread out in search of the small bottle that had been abandoned on the gathered sheets. When he finally found it, he gave a triumphant gasp, deftly flicking the lid open and dribbling some over his fingers. He discarded the bottle and immediately sat up, pulling Will more firmly into his lap as his hand snaked between them._ _ _ _

____"I'm going to open you up-" a finger teasing gently over his opening, "and when I finally slide inside of you-" a bite to Will's reddened lower lip. "You're going to be _so_ full." He caught Will’s answering gasp between his lips and spent a moment teasing and prodding before gently easing a finger in. His other hand moved steadily over Will's cock to distract him from the discomfort._ _ _ _

____Will gasped, thighs tensing slightly at the intrusion. There wasn't really pain, which he had definitely mentally prepared for. It was odd, and incredibly intimate, and he found himself tilting his head to the side and closing his eyes as he processed the sensation. Frederick's hand on his cock drew a soft gasp from his lips, slick and sure as he stroked him. Twitching his hips slightly, he gave an experimental rock back._ _ _ _

____"S'good," he slurred, tongue useless and dull from his arousal. "Kinda weird, but good."_ _ _ _

____Sliding his hand down Frederick's chest, he moaned helplessly when his fingers found his swollen cock. He was thick, deliciously thick and completely rigid. He was a bit shorter in length than Will, but the girth made his mouth water._ _ _ _

____"Holy fuck," he whined, sliding his thumb along the head. "You're fucking huge… "_ _ _ _

____With a hiss, Frederick lurched into Will's touch, hands pausing in their ministrations. Will looked so good above him, hands coyly running along Frederick's length as he eased down over one finger. Licking his lips, Frederick crooked his finger and pressed deeper, searching for the spot that would pull the boy apart. He knew he'd found it when Will's lips went slack against his own and his thighs began to tremble._ _ _ _

____"You're doing _so well_ ," he whispered against Will's jaw, pressing gently with a second finger. "We'll only go as far as you want. It's good to relax and take as much as you can, but don't push yourself too far... This is about _your_ pleasure." He let his thumb slide up to roll over Will's balls and press against the slick skin of his perineum, mouth never far from Will's lips._ _ _ _

____Will curled into Frederick's chest, whimpering and trying to rock down against his fingers. It felt so much tighter now, stretching him in a way he'd never felt before. The minor discomfort was edged with the pleasure of those long, talented fingers stroking his prostate, the thumb swiping and teasing his sac._ _ _ _

____"It's… fuck, it's so intense," he breathed, trying to relax and bear down. He barely recognized his own voice, he sounded completely lost. Burying his head against Frederick's neck, he wriggled and squirmed, trying to ease the burn and stretch. "I just… nngh, _more right there!_ " He keened low in his throat, clinging to Frederick for dear life. _ _ _ _

____Pleased to see Will opening up and enjoying himself, Frederick carried on as they were for a while. He kept his fist on Will’s cock teasing, but his fingers inside Will were relentless, curling and sliding into him smoothly while Will twisted and turned and rocked against him. He was beautiful, a sheen of sweat just beginning to make his skin glow, his glasses slid low on his nose. Frederick watched in wonder as his thighs tensed with each rock of his body, how his stomach trembled every time Frederick stroked that spot deep inside. Awed and filled with tenderness as he listened to Will’s small gasps and whines, Frederick watched with dark eyes for a few minutes before he spoke again._ _ _ _

____“You’re _stunning_ , incredibly fucking _beautiful_ … doing so well, Will. Just relax, keep going until you’re comfortable…” As he said it, he tightened his grip over Will’s erection, twisting his palm over the tip as he gently eased a third finger in just slightly, keen to let Will decide how far he would go. He captured Will’s lips again, trying to distract him as he licked into his mouth and hummed encouragingly to him._ _ _ _

____Will made a strangled noise, body going rigid. “O-oh, oh, _oh_ ,” he couldn’t help but gasp, eyes going wide. He had hit a point where his body didn’t quite know what it wanted. On one hand, the intrusion of a third finger seemed impossible. Not intensely painful; a bit uncomfortable, of course. More than anything he’d felt impossible _full_. This was so much more than the occasional finger he’d use on himself when he jerked off. He had to resist the urge to pull away, to fight the intrusion._ _ _ _

____On the other hand, it was _so fucking hot_. There was a reason Frederick was an artist. His hands were nimble and skillful, deftly twisting and stroking Will in ways he’d never imagined. Every now and then he’d touch that spot, that lovely little spot, and Will wouldn’t be able to bite back the string of curses that would flow from his lips. He was so good about not forcing it, not _taking_. He waited patiently until Will allowed himself to take a bit more, ignoring his own straining erection in favor of Will’s pleasure. _ _ _ _

____As Frederick pulled him into a particularly lewd kiss, Will felt himself allowing that impossibly thick third finger in. He gasped, looking wide eyed at the boy beneath him. “ _Oh!_ ”_ _ _ _

____At the look on Will's face Frederick felt a particularly intense coil of lust unfurl in his stomach. He moaned, sliding his fingers deep and leaving them there for Will to do as he pleased until he felt ready. “ _Will_ …” he could smell the arousal on him, taste it in the sweat on his skin as he leaned in to suck lewdy under Will’s jaw._ _ _ _

____“Do you want to come?” Frederick hissed, fingers moving leisurely over Will’s erection, miraculously still hard and twitching. “Do you feel _full_?” He pressed, voice taking on a dark edge. He abandoned Will’s straining length in favour of rubbing at the tense muscles of his thighs, palming him from knee to hip as he curled his fingers gently inside the other boy._ _ _ _

____With a low, guttural noise Wil reached back, wrapping his fingers around Frederick’s wrist to hold him in place as he rutted down against his hand. “I just… I just need a little more, a little deeper,” he groaned, eyebrows knit. His eyes once more fell shut, a look of pure concentration on his face as he tensed his thighs and bounced his hips slightly. Long fingers dug into Frederick’s shoulders, hard enough to leave desperate bruises in their wake._ _ _ _

____“Touch me, please touch me,” he whined, lips full and red as he went in for another kiss._ _ _ _

____With a groan, Frederick met him halfway, mouth molding securely against Will’s as he tugged the boy impossibly closer with a hand under his bum. He eased his fingers deeper and wrapped his hand once more around Will’s leaking erection, hearing and feeling as Will reacted to the sensation. He tried to meet Will’s thrust, mimicking the motion of fucking Will as his cock slid messily against the other boy’s. He pulled back, panting and turned his face into Will’s wrist, kissing the sweat from his frantic pulse._ _ _ _

____Ragged and overwhelmed, he wrapped long fingers as far as he could around both of their weeping cocks, rocking as much as he could against Will without any leverage. He felt Will’s pleasure as he squeezed around his fingers, and surprised, Frederick moaned openly, hips faltering as his fingers surged deeper, searching and pressing._ _ _ _

____Will rested his mouth against Frederick’s shoulder, panting hard and hot against his skin. “I can’t, I can’t,” he practically sobbed, hips starting to lose their rhythm. He felt like he was coming apart, losing himself atom by atom at the sensation of those fingers inside of him, of the slide and drag of his cock against Frederick’s. He never wanted to leave their fort. Tangled there in the sheets, tangled in Frederick’s arms, he was finally getting everything he ever wanted._ _ _ _

____He desperately wanted to stave off his climax, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. It was too perfect, too _complete_. With a howl he came, shooting hard into Frederick’s hand. His entire body went rigid, thighs tense, back arching, fingers digging into Frederick’s shoulders. “ _Oh my God_!”_ _ _ _

____Mesmerized, Frederick gently stroked the boy through his orgasm, pride and a strong fondness washing over him like warm water. He slowly eased his fingers out, kissing at Will’s slack mouth and whispering encouragement to him as he shivered through the aftershocks._ _ _ _

____“ _Exquisite_ …” Frederick breathed as he pulled Will to lay over him, settling back down against the pillows. He tucked Will’s head under his chin, kissing his temple and stroking his hair. Will smelt fresh like the shampoo Frederick always noticed lingering in the bathroom in the mornings, but he also smelt of heat, and arousal. He pulled his hand from between them and carefully licked his fingers clean, learning the taste of Will, something about it again feeling like ownership, like _claiming_ him._ _ _ _

____Will was mindless on top of him, not an ounce of strength left in him. His skin was flushed and clammy, muscles ticcing from overexertion. It wasn’t unpleasant; his muscles felt lax and overused, satisfied in having served their purpose. Eyes heavy lidded, he looked up at Frederick._ _ _ _

____There was an open honesty written all over his face. In this haze, this come down, there was no hiding from who he was or what he felt. There was only the raw, swollen feeling in his heart, the knowledge that he loved so deeply he didn’t know how to handle himself._ _ _ _

____With a weak moan he pushed himself up slightly, lazily kissing the boy underneath him. “G’na… gonna get you off,” he slurred. “Need to get you off…”_ _ _ _

____Frederick laughed, combing Will's hair back off his forehead as he pulled the boy back down on top of him._ _ _ _

____"Hold on now, I was enjoying that." He smirked against Will's neck, fingers dancing down his back to smooth over the trembling muscles of his thighs. He wanted Will to enjoy the aftershocks of his climax, to wind down slowly pressed to Frederick's chest, their hearts beating in earnest against one another._ _ _ _

____"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you come?" He could still feel the way Will had bore down on his fingers, how his muscles had grabbed him, how his cock had spasmed and spilled into his hand, over Frederick’s straining erection. Even now, Will's slowing, rabbit-like heartbeat sang to him, filled him._ _ _ _

____He swept a thumb lazily over Will's opening again, just pushing inside as he mouthed reverently along the column of a pale throat. "How you felt on top of me... What it was like to be _inside_ you..." He sighed, reaching up to capture pliant lips as his fingers continued to probe and slide gently over him._ _ _ _

____Will gave a full-body shudder, trying to kiss Frederick's temple as he continued to mouth along Will's throat. "I've never come like that," he muttered, closing his eyes and rocking back against his questing fingers. He felt over-sensitive, messy, but he couldn't get enough of the feeling of fullness. It had been like nothing else, caught between Frederick's firm body and his incredibly wicked hands._ _ _ _

____"You're so beautiful," he breathed, tilting his head to steal a passionate kiss. He could hardly believe that their earlier run in with Hannibal had happened, that they were the same two people as the ones locked in that bedroom. So much had changed between them in such a short time._ _ _ _

____"I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,"he pleaded, eyes hungry as he rocked down against Frederick's aching cock._ _ _ _

____Running his free hand down Will's arm, Frederick continued to suck and mouth along a now-red neck. His breaths were coming in little gasps, fingers trembling when they met Will's and interlaced. He pushed two fingers gently into Will again, casually kneading his prostate as the boy rocked over him._ _ _ _

____"Touch me… " Frederick hissed, sounding slightly broken. As he pulled their joined fingers to slide messily over his own sensitive erection, he let out a surprised gasp and lifted his hips. "-a bit sensitive… " he muttered, tilting his head into the crook of Will's neck. His fingers continued to rub and press into Will at every small gasp and moan from the other boy._ _ _ _

____Will nodded frantically, easily curling his fingers around Frederick’s leaking prick. He shivered as a persistent finger slid over his prostate again and again, chest heaving as he panted._ _ _ _

____“I imagine so,” he moaned, setting an easy rhythm. “You gave me so fucking much, you’re so hard, fuck Frederick…” Leaning in, he sucked fiercely on his lower lip. “Mm, think of what it’s going to be like when you’re actually fucking me? So tight, no one’s ever been inside me,” he moaned. “You’ll be the first, and I’d let you take _whatever_ you wanted…” With a broken, pathetic sound he leaned in, mouthing just below Frederick’s ear. “Your cock is so _thick_ , think of how tight it’s going to be…”_ _ _ _

____The visions came hard and fast, of Will above him, easing himself down on Frederick, the look on his face, his open mouth and long neck and fingers scrambling for purchase. He saw, in his mind, where they were joined, his hands smoothing over Will's trembling thighs as he rocked into him. It was suddenly like a growing swell, just on his periphery as it bore down on him, a tightness starting from his knees and shoulders and just gathering speed towards his middle._ _ _ _

____He opened his eyes to watch the other boy as he came, his voice broken and sibilant as he lost his breath, hips rising restlessly upwards as he surged into Will's grip. Helplessly gushing over slim fingers, he whined and reached for Will, his lips parted and wanting as he leaned up for a kiss, his eyes dark and sad with the intensity of his climax._ _ _ _

____Will kissed Frederick with all the passion and adoration he could manage, one hand stroking his hair, his neck, anywhere he could reach. “So perfect, you look so perfect,” he whispered, kissing the corner of Frederick’s mouth. As the other boy shivered through his come down Will brought his hand up, eyes dark as he licked Frederick from his fingers. “Amazing,” he breathed, mouth quirking into a wicked smile._ _ _ _

____With a grunt he fell forward, lazily kissing the boy under him again and again. “I love you,” he huffed, the energy seeming to seep out of him now that they had both come. “Tonight was insane, and amazing, and I fucking love you.”_ _ _ _

____Quaking slightly, Frederick wrapped his arms tight around the other boy and tipped them to their sides, mouth possessive and greedy over Will's._ _ _ _

____" _Will, Will, Will…_ " The boy's name fell like a prayer from Frederick's lips, his hands hungrily roaming over every naked stretch of skin he could reach. He loved the feeling of Will's ass under his fingers, the smoothness of the skin, the slickness of the lube between his thighs. He groaned and turned his head into Will's jaw._ _ _ _

____" _Will_ , you gave me so much, opened up so much..." He was filled with tenderness for Will, who had experienced so much that was new, who had taken it with grace; was lovely, and exquisitely beautiful and unbelievably sweet pressed against him._ _ _ _

____"Love you, _love you_ ," he murmured, tightening his hold on the other boy. _ _ _ _

____Will relaxed into Frederick, sighing happily. He felt amazing; used and worshipped and loved. With a soft kiss to Frederick's chest, he closed his eyes._ _ _ _

____A moment later he opened them, grinning. "Do you think they ever realized we're not in the room anymore?"_ _ _ _


	9. Chapter 9

Late morning sunlight filtered in through the windows of the old house, filling the living room and lighting up the fortress of blankets and pillows that had been carefully constructed within. Rays of sun filtered in through the layers of draped fabric, filling the inside of the tent with a myriad of colors that dappled Will and Frederick’s skin as they slept. Both were out cold; between the heavy emotions of their argument and their intense night of passion, they’d slept heavier than either ever had. Frederick was sprawled on his back, Will sprawled out over him, a tangle of limbs. Will’s left hand was slung up and over, fingers lazily tangled in Frederick’s hair. Frederick had one arm wrapped around Will’s waist, a hand resting possessively over his ass.

Will woke first, blinking and yawning as he came to consciousness. The first thing he noticed were his sore, stiff limbs. Every muscle from head to toe seemed to ache, a happy, tight sort of ache that was well earned. Looking down, he tried to blink through his astigmatism to study his skin. When that didn’t work he groped around for his glasses, giving a sigh of relief to find them unbroken before shoving them on his face. Immediately a multitude of bruises came into sharp relief. They mottled his skin, covering his pale body in spots of angry purples and greens. Each bruise was a different shape, but most bore the tell-tale crescent moon shape of teeth marks. 

Wriggling slightly, he winced at the slick feeling between his thighs leading up to his ass. They’d passed out the night before, barely taking the time to use the corner of a blanket to wipe the come off of their skin. He desperately needed a shower, a cup of coffee, and probably some pancakes.

With another wide yawn he shifted, cuddling up against Frederick’s side. Those things could wait. There was a lovely warm body to press against, a lovely warm body that loved him. He was in no rush to leave Frederick’s side.

Shifting and stretching Frederick blearily opened his eyes, pain already present just between his brows. He groaned, turning into Will and pulling the boy into his chest. Will was pliant under his hands, and relief struck him again. How close he’d been to losing it all over some madman’s infatuation. He pressed a kiss into Will’s hair, accidentally leaning too heavily on his nose as a gasp rose out of him from the bolt of pain. He whined, hands palming down Will’s body as he suffered the throbbing.

“Are you my doctor…?” He murmured tiredly, his hands settling on Will’s lower back.

“Playing doctor was last night,” Will said, sitting up and squinting at him in the low light of their sanctuary. He studied Frederick’s nose, tilting his head to check it from different angles. “Well, good news. It’s probably not broken. Bad news? I’m only a naive, lonely third year med student and I could be wrong,” he teased. He ran a thumb gently over Frederick’s cheek, examining his black eyes. “The other good news is you look kinda hot like this,” he grinned.

Flopping over, Will let out a groan that ended in a laugh. “I can’t believe yesterday _happened_.”

Frederick pulled himself up onto an elbow, expression moving from sleepy to hungry as he laid eyes on Will’s naked form stretched beside him. He took a deep breath, tilting his head as placed his fingers on Will’s throat, thumbing over the bruises there. His eyes flicked to Will’s before they moved down again, following his fingertips as they brushed down over his chest. 

“Do they hurt…?” He asked, voice low. He pressed his palm flat over Will’s stomach, feeling the jump of his muscles underneath. His gaze swept back up as he teased along the crease of Will’s groin, hand tantalizingly close. 

Will bit his lip, eyes locked on Frederick’s as he spread his legs invitingly. “They feel good,” he replied, voice soft in the holiness of their secret place. “They… I don’t know. They’re reminders of last night. I wish I could keep them forever.” He blushed softly, hand coming up to stroke Frederick’s cheek.

He wanted to find words to tell Frederick how _poignant_ last night had been, how he had felt so cared for, so _loved_. He wanted to find the exact thing to say that would properly convey how it had exceeded all his expectations of what he thought love was. He wanted to find the apologies to erase all of Frederick’s pain over Will having had believed for even a _moment_ that he was anything less than perfect. But they didn’t exist, nothing was appropriate for everything he was feeling.

Instead he pulled Frederick close, pressing up into him. “I love you,” he breathed against a shadowed jaw, pressing a reverential kiss just at the jut of his chin.

Frederick tilted his head, pressing his lips softly against Will’s as he leaned over him, his hand drifting lower. He teased at his lower lip, kisses hungry but patient as he felt Will opening up beneath his hands.

“I love _you_. Everything about you…” He dipped his head, mouthing under Will’s jaw and sucking against his bruises. He hadn’t meant to leave so many. It’d been dark, and they’d been delirious in the aftermath of what had happened. Will seemed pleased by the attention though, his body turning into Frederick touches. With a grin, Frederick kissed along a stubbled cheek as he ran a finger along Will’s length, already hard and begging for attention.

“ _Will_ , look at you. You’re striking, absolutely _stunning_.” And he was, skin warm under the dim filtered sunlight, a flush spreading from his neck to his chest and further. His curls were twisted and unruly from sleep, and hung beautifully around his ears and cheeks. Frederick leaned in to thoughtfully press his face into the locks, breathing deeply and mouthing under Will’s ear.

“Just look at you,” he breathed again, pulling back to watch as he tightened his fingers around the other boy. “Already hard… aren’t you tired from last night?” Frederick’s voice was teasing, like his fingers, skimming and dragging but not _touching_ properly. His mouth was a smirk against Will’s jaw.

Will groaned, giving a languid roll of his hips. His arousal was a pleasant hum coursing through his body, prickling under his skin as he responded to Frederick’s touches. “We just woke up,” he breathed, licking his lips and tilting his head to give Frederick access. “I’m feeling nice and rested right now, thanks very much.” 

He got his hands on Frederick’s chest, giving a firm push to roll them. He landed on top of him, a sly smirk spreading across his face. “Anyway, I brought this condom downstairs last night and we didn’t even use it…” He tried to look confident, but little flashes of vulnerability crept into his eyes. Still, his hands were sure as they slid along Frederick’s chest, stopping to circle his thumbs around tight nipples. “I want you _inside_ of me,” he murmured, blushing.

Frederick felt his chest tighten with tenderness, and he grasped one of Will’s wrists, bringing it to his lips. He said nothing as he mouthed at the sensitive flesh, eyes dark and boring into the boy above him. He swallowed, directing his eyes down, not shy as his gaze lingered here and there, curious about the jump of Will’s muscles as he responded to the hot mouth on his skin. His hand was firm as it ran along the inside of one thigh, thumb sliding up along the crease of his groin and watching with dark satisfaction as Will squirmed at the touch.

He hummed his appreciation, loving every one of Will’s gasps and sighs, every lewd roll of his hips over Frederick’s trapped erection. He released Will’s wrist to run both hands up those warm thighs, folding his legs to gain leverage as he rolled them forward and settled heavily between Will’s legs. Gripping fingers into Will’s hair, he tugged gently for Will to bare his throat.

“Are you sure this is what you want…? It may not be easy.” His voice was heavy like molasses, sticky and dark along Will’s neck. As always though, his words were a warning, but he pressed bodily on, his free hand sliding between them to part Will’s cheeks with two fingers and slide over his slick opening.

“I am _so_ sure,” Will gasped, head falling back as he arched into Frederick’s touch. “It’s all I fucking want Frederick, for _months_ now…” Settled as they were, his entire body was on display for the other boy, thighs tense and skin flushed under his litany of bruises. “Like, use a ton of lube, and go slow, but… I _want_ this.”

He leaned in, capturing Frederick’s lips in a desperate kiss. His hands moved of their own volition, burning with the need to touch every inch of heated skin. He had always been slightly nervous about sex; it was difficult for him to trust anyone enough to let them in, to peel away every layer of himself and really be _exposed_. Frederick was the first one to make it this far, to really make Will feel comfortable enough to want it.

Will wanted to give him everything.

With a frantic whine he pressed close, messily rubbing their cocks together. “I still feel so fucking loose from last night…”

Frederick groaned, head dropping to his chest as they slid together. Will writhing beneath him was doing a terrific job of trapping his wrist, and with nowhere else to go, he urged on, two fingers sliding easily through the tight ring of muscle. He swallowed Will’s cry, licking into his mouth as he curled his fingers and pushed deeper, feeling thighs tense against him.

“I wouldn’t call that _loose_ , but I guess I know what you mean.” He pushed himself up on an elbow, finally feeling the need to hunt down the small bottle they’d used the previous night. Hand sliding across the blanket, he found it, and he sat up on his haunches with Will’s legs curled around his waist.

“You really do look beautiful… Look at how much you want it. Look at how _hard_ you are in my hand…” And he circled Will’s length again, fingers glistening with lube now. His fist moved easily, and he paid special attention to the head to distract Will as he slowly slid three fingers into him.

“Open up for me, Will. Try and relax.” His hand was smooth and gentle where it twisted over Will’s erection, pulling him closer and closer to the edge but never speeding up or tightening his grip.

Will was already panting hard, bucking down on Frederick’s fingers. This was it, he was finally going to be fucked. And it was _real_ , it was someone who loved him. This wasn’t going to be a hasty romp with some guy he’d never see again; it was someone he’d continue to wake up with every morning, someone he would share his day with and rely on for comfort and warmth each night. With a helpless moan he dragged Frederick down, kissing him with hungry lips.

“M’trying, it’s so good,” he panted, toes curling. His face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows knit. “Come on, deeper,” he gasped impatiently, digging his fingertips into Frederick’s shoulder.

He fell silent for a moment before grinning, closing his eyes. “We should fuck on you-know-whose lawn, let him see f-for himself how well his plan worked.”

"You've got a filthy mouth," Frederick moaned, nipping along his jaw and pressing deeper with probing fingers. He curved over Will's body, hand sliding from his cock to the back of his thighs, pulling them over his shoulder.

"You won't want to rush this part, believe me… Though hearing your voice, fucking _begging_ for it, Will, makes me so _fucking hard_." He dragged himself against the other boy, slickness between them as he took Will in hand again. He opened easily for Frederick's fingers now, deep and curled against his prostate, rubbing relentlessly as Will twitched in his hand.

Will was a delicious sight before him, pretty and flushed from head to toe, knobby knees pink and soft and Frederick turned his head to kiss, biting gently along the underside of a smooth thigh. Every lift of Will's hips into his hands, every moan and whine as he squirmed against long fingers made Frederick harder, unbearably aroused. He moaned his anguish into a pliant mouth and let his weight settle against Will’s hips, bending the boy nearly in half.

"Are you ready?" His voice was shaking, nervous and consumed with lust as he rocked his fingers steadily into Will's trembling body.

Will was a tense line of arousal, lips parted as he gasped for breath. He had always expected his first time to hurt, expected it to be something he just suffered through to get it done. This was perfection. His body longed for Frederick, longed for the slick ache of a cock pressing into him. He wanted everything, everything the other boy had to offer. 

"I'm so ready, please, I need you," he moaned, eyes heavy lidded. Despite the intensity of the situation sleep still clung to him, making his limbs heavy and pliant. Pulling Frederick down, he moaned into a particularly hungry kiss. "Fuck me," he breathed, arching into him. 

Wrecked by the timbre of Will's voice, Frederick gasped and shuddered, already achingly hard and sensitive. "That fucking _mouth_ ," he breathed, reluctantly pulling back.

"This will work better if you're on top. You need to have control, decide when to keep going..." He leaned back, pulling Will with him to settle in his lap. He looked down, sighing at the sight of the two of them together. His mind buzzed with need, and his hand spread out across the comforters, searching for the condom Will had provided.

"You even prepared... What was that like, hmm? Going into the only drug store in town, where everybody knows you, to buy condoms so I could _fuck you_ …?" His voice was heavy, his teeth slow and dragging across Will's pulse as he hastily rolled the condom over his straining cock. Leaning back on one hand, he spread more lube over himself and lifted Will slightly with his knees. Eyes finding Will's, he nudged at his entrance, hot and thick, just pressing and rocking, waiting for Will to decide how to proceed.

Will's voice caught in his throat, a thrill running along his spine. He moaned at the feeling of Frederick's cock pressing gently against him, giving himself a moment to experience the feeling, commit it to memory. His thighs were trembling, palms braced against his chest. 

"Okay. Okay. Here were go," he breathed, eyes wide as he looked up at Frederick. 

With a steadying breath he began to sink down, gasping at the stretch. He could feel the thick head of Frederick's prick just barely pressing in, could feel the heat of their connected bodies. It was staggering, he was so thick, so impossibly hard... "Oh my God," he groaned, eyes heavy lidded. "Oh....oh wow. .."

"Shh, shhh, go slowly or you'll hurt yourself." Frederick's voice was a comforting mumur against Will's temple as he nosed down to Will's lips. He swallowed each pained groan, soothed each tremble away with warm hands. Will was beautiful on top of him, head heavy and lolling to the side as Frederick rocked his hips gently upwards, grasping Will's hands in his.

Every inch was impossible tightness Frederick had to steel himself against, moaning openly into Will's mouth when after a few moments of careful rocking, he bottomed out.

"Will, _Will, fuck_ ," he was sweating now with the effort to remain still, hands sliding down Will's chest to grasp his erection that had waned slightly, pumping gently as he allowed Will time to get used to the stretch.

"Beautiful, you've done so good. Are you okay, Will, are you alright?" He leaned back to take in Will's face, brushing the back of his hand down a red cheek.

Now fully seated Will let his limbs go lax, sinking into Frederick. He was shaking, skin slick with sweat. The stretch between his legs, while nothing terribly painful, was overwhelming. "You're… you're SO big," he mewled, flexing his thighs to press tighter around Frederick. He felt stuck, unable to fathom having to move while so impossibly full.

"Gotta help me," he whined, giving an experimental rock of his hips. "Oh!" The motion had caused Frederick's length to just barely shift inside of him, stroking against his prostate. It sent a jolt of burning white electricity along his spine, crackling somewhere in his brain.

Frederick groaned raggedly, squeezing Will tighter and running his thumb over the head of his leaking prick. It was unbearably tight, and Frederick could feel the thrum of Will’s heartbeat, frantic and heavy, thudding against him.

"Open up for me, relax your muscles…" He stroked soothing hands down Will's back, pressing his cock, shining and twitching, between them. He pulled Will into a kiss, lazily sliding their tongues together, pulling soft moans and cries as he gave an experimental roll of his hips, pulling out just slightly and pushing in deeper to rock against the most sensitive part of him.

Will gasped, eyes flying open. "Oh my God! It's like… fuck Frederick, you're _so_ big." He hid his face against Frederick's neck, starting to tentatively move and shift. The pain was a dull ache at the base of his spine, uncomfortable but not unbearable. He knew it would be amazing, knew he just needed to relax and let Frederick take care of him… 

After a few minutes of careful exploration he finally relaxed, muscles allowing the intrusion without fighting back. A delighted gasp escaped his lips, body going loose in Frederick's arms. "Ooooh yeah," he groaned, sliding a hand between them to lightly stroke his own cock. He was fully hard again, cock flushed and aching as he worked himself. 

"This… ooh yeah, this is good," he muttered, biting his lip as he lifted up and sank back down. 

Opening his eyes, he let them rake over Frederick's face; he looked lost, eyebrows knit and mouth slack. His skin was glowing, cheeks pink. 

"You're so beautiful," he choked, leaning in for a fiery kiss. 

Frederick groaned, finally allowing himself to move as he gripped Will's hips and rocked into him, a slow slide nearly all the way out before he pushed back in, hissing as the tight heat engulfed him again.

He nipped Will's lips before trailing a hot mouth down his neck.

"Has it occurred to you that you're just _impossibly_ tight?" He grunted indelicately, gripping Will's thighs and rolling them again so Will could rest on his back. He rolled his hips forward with the new angle, pushing Will's legs to dangle over his shoulders as he started a slow and steady rhythm.

He leaned heavily between parted legs, mouthing against Will's chest till he found a nipple to roll carefully between his teeth.

"Keep touching yourself." He demanded, voice darkened with lust as he rocked forward and sucked hard against the tender bud between his lips.

Will let out a broken wail, back arching. He looked utterly destroyed, unable to process everything he was feeling, every lit nerve of his body. Reaching down, he wrapped a shaking hand around his dick and started pumping in time with Frederick's hips. 

"Fuck me, oh my God yes," he begged, voice high and tight. "You're so perfect, you feel SO good, nngh..."

Frederick's mouth was a hard line as he gripped Will's thighs and pulled him closer, his hips off the ground now as Frederick dragged his cock tortuously over Will's prostate with every thrust.

"Do you have _any_ idea how fucking _gorgeous_ you are?" Will's curls were spread around his head, his chest heaving with rushed breath as his fist worked over himself. "Every time you feel yourself getting close, you _squeeze_ around me-" Frederick punctuated with a deep slide of his cock in, a slap of skin as their hips snapped together, "- _ahhh, **fuck** , like that!_" His hips jerked a little, breaking the rhythm, and he leaned forward, not satisfied with the restriction on his movement in this position.

His hands were demanding as they tugged Will's legs down to tighten around his waist and he curled forward, bending Will almost double as he started a quicker pace, unhindered now as he lost himself in Will's tight heat. He batted Will's hand out of the way and slid his fist tight over Will's leaking prick, pulling without mercy, smearing precome down the length of him.

Will was nearly mindless with arousal, writhing and squirming under the onslaught of Frederick's hips. Every sound that came out of him was breathless, obscene. Bent in half as he was, a startled expression on his face at the intensity of the pleasure, he looked as if he'd found religion. 

Wrapping his arms around Frederick, he dragged blunt nails mindlessly down his back. He hauled Frederick down, pulling him into a hungry kiss. 

"Want you to come in me, " he hissed, eyebrows knit. 

Frederick sighed happily against against Will's lips, his hips slowing to roll into him steadily. He hummed, a hand carding through unruly curls.

"I will…" He smiled, before settling back on his haunches and dragging his fingers teasingly over the head of Will's cock. "I'd like to watch you a bit longer though..." His thrusts were too-slow, his grip feather-light though precome continued to ooze over his fingertips.

When he pulled out, it was to Will's pained whine, but he swallowed it quickly as he dipped for a hungry kiss before mouthing his way down Will's body.

"You're perfect… Too much for me, Will…" He murmured his praises against flushed skin, tasting the salt of Will’s sweat as he dipped lower, hauling trembling thighs over his shoulders once more.

"I want to watch you come apart… Feel it, _taste it_." He licked a hot stripe up Will's cock before sucking the head into his mouth. His fingers pushed greedily back inside to thrust relentlessly again, purring happily at the sounds that poured from Will's pink lips. There was an eager groan as the taste of Will finally seeping against his tongue, and his hand spread reverently over a trembling stomach to grasp Will’s hand and twine their fingers. His eyes were heavy with want as he caught Will's gaze and sucked him in.

"Not fair, not fair," Will whined breathlessly, toes curling and wriggling against Frederick's skin. He dug his heels into Frederick's back, using him as leverage to thrust up. Frederick's mouth was a beautiful distraction of warm, wet suction, the fingers in his ass relentless. 

"Frederick, Frederick please, please I love you," he whined, trying to play on his sympathies. "Opened up so good for you, please let me come..."

He felt white hot and electric, head filled with a pleasant crackling arousal. All he could focus on was the look on Frederick's face, the severe determination in his eyes. He loved him… He _loved_ him, had never loved anyone like he loved Frederick. That thought alone was the most arousing thing, the fact that filled him with aching desire. He fucking adored him, and wanted to give him everything. 

"Please baby, please…"

Frederick popped off with a smirk, twisting his tongue around the crown and curling his fingers deeper. He mouthed down, sucking on Will's sac and letting his tongue drift lower still. Will's cries were music to his ears, and he squeezed Will's hand, thumbing over his palm as he sucked hard against the base of his erection.

" _Come for me_ ," he growled, three fingers thrusting with abandon as he licked a welled bead of precome into his mouth. "I want to taste you, Will, _now_." His fingers twisted along the length of him. "Come for me _now_." He descended again, tasting the steady seep against the back of his throat, smelling the musk of Will's arousal thick and heavy. He hummed his approval of each wanton gasp, locking eyes as he sucked hard and tongued against the underside. He lived for that moment, when Will reached the tipping point, helpless and lost to Frederick's mouth, loved the pleading and begging, the twist of his hips as he fell to pieces.

Will felt devoured, completely eaten alive. He was pinned under Frederick’s gaze, trapped and burning as the other boy slowly and methodically broke down every wall he had ever built. 

At Frederick’s growled “ _now_ ” Will couldn’t help but obey. With a pained shout he let go, spilling into eager, swollen lips. It was perfect, it was _everything_. Frederick had been so careful, so _loving_ , but at the same time didn’t treat Will like he’d been made of fine crystal. His thighs tightening against Frederick’s shoulders, body curling in of its own volition, a thousand praises and declarations of love came babbling out of him. He was shaking, dying; falling completely apart. If he lived through this orgasm he would spend the rest of his life waiting on Frederick hand and foot, trying to make up for how _incredible_ he felt.

Body still rolling and twitching, Will looked up at Frederick with a delirious look on his face. “Baby… fuck,” he whispered, voice too wrecked for anything louder.

There was no response but for the growl of appreciation as Frederick licked his fingers clean and eyed Will darkly. He inched up Will’s body, hand sliding over relaxed muscles until he was cupping Will’s face. The kiss was slow when he took it, first a dry press of lips before he tilted his head and eased forward, licking into Will’s mouth leisurely as his fingers smoothed Will’s hair back from his face.

“ _Lovely_ ,” he murmured, groaning as he captured Will’s lips again and took and took until they were both lightheaded and broke apart breathless. He slid to Will’s side, turning a pliant body until he could pull Will to his chest and mouth up the back of his neck.

“You were beautiful, so beautiful…” His breath was hot behind Will’s ear, arousal and desperation still suffusing his tone. He smoothed a hand down Will’s stomach, trailing fingers through the sparse hair there as his cock, still hard, twitched against Will’s lower back. Frederick could feel the small bit of sweat that had pooled there, now cooling on Will’s skin as he rocked his hips forward and sighed into wild curls.

Will squirmed back against Frederick’s erection, panting as his skin cooled. He felt dizzy, completely boneless as he let Frederick manhandle him into the position he wanted. “God, that was incredible,” he gasped, slowly rolling his hips back. Frederick’s dick was firm and insistent against him. Will could feel every desperate twitch and jerk as he got closer to the edge. 

“You could come in me, if you wanted,” he slurred, looking over his shoulder with heated eyes. “I really fucking want you to…”

With hummed agreement, Frederick gently hiked Will's leg up and slowly slid home again, pressing his face into Will's neck as he helplessly curled around him. A shudder ran through his tired muscles as he rocked forward, his voice trembling with emotion as he gasped against Will's skin.

"Love you… _Love you_ , oh my _god_ , Will..." His grip became tighter, his teeth more possessive on Will's skin as he felt the threatening wave of his climax approaching again, every nerve lighting up as he felt Will push back against him, accepting the intrusion, _wanting_ him, his body begging for it even as his muscles became loose and pliant in his post orgasmic haze. 

That he had chosen Frederick, that he'd shared so much already and then _this_ , that he was comfortable being naked and exposed with Frederick _inside_ , pushing against the deepest part of him. That Will allowed him this, and still wanted more, could trust Frederick and _love_ him and want to keep on loving him. Frederick could barely stand it, this immense gift in the shadow of all that had happened, _could_ happen.

"I never want to be apart from you…" He gasped through gritted teeth, his thrusts growing deeper and harder. He slid his palm flat and tight across Will’s stomach to hold him close as he mouthed down the light bruises on the cords of his neck.

Will whimpered, skin prickling as Frederick slid over his already abused prostate. It was just this-side of too much. Each thrust was deep and hard, perfectly aimed and intense as Frederick chased his own orgasm. Will reached around, grabbing Frederick’s hand and bringing it to his lips. He nibbled lightly at his fingertips, pressing breathless kisses into his palm.

“You can, oh God you can,” Will groaned, thighs tensing. He pressed back into Frederick, sucking a long middle finger past swollen lips. 

Will wanted to give him everything. _Everything_. Laying there, letting Frederick use him for his own pleasure, it was the best way imaginable to start the day. “Come on, come in me,” he begged, running his tongue along the pad of Frederick’s finger. “Come on, let go baby, need to hear you when you come…”

Frederick gave a helpless cry and with a burst of strength, he hauled on Will’s hip and turned the boy onto his knees, not apart from him for even a moment before he was thrusting forward with abandon again. He spread over the curve of Will’s back, fingers digging into the skin of his hips before his voice became a forlorn sob, his climax rising and rolling over him. His hips faltered, rocking haltingly against Will as his vision went white and he shuddered and pulsed inside of the tight heat, each surge sending him into a small fit of tremors and whimpers.

Will’s name was a murmured chant on his lips as he nosed through the curls spread over the pillows, his body frozen and tense. With each passing moment, he felt himself settling, loosening, breathing easier.

“Oh god, Will, I’m sorry…” He rolled them gently back onto their sides, still pressed tight to the other boy and spreading his hands warm up Will’s chest. “That was a little rough… Are you alright?” He had softened now, but he didn’t dare pull out just yet. There was something very important about staying connected to Will for the time being. Just for a moment longer, he needed to let the possessive feelings linger and spread over him, feel Will’s heartbeat and the still-slick tightness.

Will gave a happy little sigh, shivering and trembling in Frederick’s arms. Every inch of him was loose and weak, body snuggled right back against the other boy. “No, no, it was perfect,” he murmured, eyes fluttering shut. “It was honestly perfect.” He turned his upper body as much as possible, keeping them connected as he went in for a languid kiss.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he murmured. “That was better than I ever could have hoped.”

Will’s shyness, his fear of the people around him, they’d all made it so difficult to get close to anyone. And now here he was, lazing in a post-orgasmic haze with a heart so full it felt like it was going to burst. “I love you,” he breathed, overwhelmed by just how much he _meant_ it. Frederick had been so careful, so attentive of his needs and every shift or change in his body. He felt used, filthy and lax, but he felt used in a way that assured him that he was dearly loved.

With gentle hands, Frederick squeezed Will’s thigh and extricated himself from the other boy with a sad huff of breath. He was quick to slide the condom off and place it somewhere safe before turning Will against him and eagerly capturing his lips with a happy moan. His fingers carded through Will’s curls, relishing in the soft slip of the locks over his skin and the soft slide of Will’s lips against his own.

“How can I deserve you?” He murmured, pulling back only barely to look into Will’s eyes with wonder. “You have so much to give. There is so much _amazing_ inside of you.” He curled around Will, settling his face into the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply. Their knees knocked together and Frederick slid a leg between Will’s thighs, settling closer and feeling the jump of his lover’s pulse against his lips.

“I promise to do my best to be enough for you.” Frederick automatically thought of Hannibal, of all the innate gifts _he_ possessed, despite the manipulation and psychopathic tendencies. He would have had so much more to offer Will, socially and culturally. But Frederick felt that he couldn’t possibly love Will as wholly and invariably as Frederick did in that moment.

Will slowly opened his eyes, lips curling into a fond smile. “You don’t have to try, you’re incredible.” He snuggled close, pressing a kiss to the top of Frederick’s hair. In his head he was sorting through all the things they would be able to experience together; shared meals, holidays, rushed shared showers on mornings they were both running late. He’d never really had a boyfriend before, never had anyone to look forward to spending time with. He felt so… hopeful.

He felt so hopeful that he didn’t notice the door gently opening and closing.

Beverly’s head popped into the tent, eyes growing wide. “Oh. Ooooh! So I guess you two made up?”

“What?” Alana gasped behind her. “What’s going on?”

“Are they naked?” Brian crowed from somewhere by the door. 

Will shrieked, yanking a blanket over them. “ _Jesus Beverly!_ ”

Beverly laughed, dropping to her knees and crawling in. “We were worried you guys might have killed each other, so we came to check. Well, Alana and I did, Brian and Jimmy were pretty sure you’d be naked together.”

“Gay intuition,” Jimmy drawled. Will assumed he was somewhere by Brian.

Frederick had gone a dark scarlet, shoulders tense as he sunk back into the pillows with wide eyes. A deeply private person, it was his worst nightmare to have strangers clamoring in on his post-coital bliss. Though, they weren’t strangers, not by a long shot, and with that thought, Frederick felt himself relax, a sly smile sliding onto his face. He tugged the blanket tighter around his waist and leaned back with his arms folded behind his head. There wasn’t really much point denying what their friends had just walked in on, though Frederick did feel a little bad for Will, who was wearing the evidence of their lovemaking all along his neck.

“Though I love what you’ve done with the place, I don’t recall inviting you inside our little love-nest. Are you just here to check for structural damage?” He flashed Beverly a cheeky grin as she flopped down beside him.

Beverly laughed, cuddling up on the side opposite Will. “Something like that. I think Will is the only one who ended up with structural damage.”

Alana crawled in, coloring slightly but entering anyway. She sat demurely, legs folded under her. “I’m happy to see you guys worked everything out. We were really worried, especially since you guys _climbed out of the window to leave the party_.” She gave Will a Look, folding her arms.

Will was hiding against Frederick, face pressed against his shoulder. “I was overwhelmed. I didn’t want to talk to everyone on my way out, I couldn’t deal with all the questions just yet. Besides, we still had stuff to figure out, get off our chests.”

“Apparently you got a lot off your chest,” Jimmy pointed out, joining them in the fort.

Frederick rolled his eyes, curling a protective arm around Will. 

“Is there really enough room for all of you in here, _honestly_ … Not that I’m not happy to see you, _but_ …” He swept his hand down to their obvious undress, the way the sheets did a very poor job of covering their nakedness, or the debauched mess they were in.

“How about we meet at the cafe in like… a half hour?” He looked at Will briefly, eyebrows furrowing before he amended. “An hour. Maybe.” He turned back to the rest of them, giving them a raised eyebrow. “Is Brian the only decent one here?” 

“I don’t want to see your penis,” Brian called.

Will snorted, face still hidden. “Out. Cafe in an hour. _Go_.” Once they had left, laughing and teasing the entire way out, he looked up at Frederick. “These are the people we’ve decided to surround ourselves with.” He rose to his knees, wincing. “Okay. I need to shower. You also need to shower. We need to do it separately so we make it out of here on time.” He leaned in, stealing a more affectionate kiss. “Go.”

Frederick huffed, pulling away from Will petulantly.

“That was kind of the point, you know… I did tell them an _hour_. It’s like a five minute walk, but if you _insist_.” He leaned in to give Will a hungry kiss, humming appreciatively and sliding his fingers into soft curls before reluctantly pulling away, sucking softly on a plush bottom lip.

“Ugh, what have you done to me…” He whined, sliding away from Will and out into the cold of the living room.

“It’s fucking frigid out here!” He hollered, and then proceeded to whine loudly all the way to the bathroom. Even with the door shut, his anguished cry could be heard until the shower started and there was the distinctive snap of the glass door sliding shut.

Will laughed as he watched Frederick go, shaking his head. He still felt overwhelmed, staggered by the events of the last twenty-four hours. By the events of the last few _months_. To think that in August they’d barely spoken, were barely aware of each other. Two planets orbiting each other and nothing more.

Now they were… something. Boyfriends, lovers, whatever. It felt trite to describe them as something so simple, so _common_. What they were defied any expectations Will had ever set for himself, for his life and his happiness. They weren’t perfect, but it felt like they were headed there.

After taking a few moments to wipe himself down and clean up all the evidence of their morning, he headed upstairs to grab an outfit for the day. As he stepped in the room he caught sight of himself in the mirror over his dresser. His eyes widened at the image before him; his hair was a wild mane, curls huge and unruly from so much pulling and stroking. He was covered with an abundance of bruises and bites, most in crescent arcs that curved along his skin and left a trail all the way down to his thighs. He barely recognized himself. The Will he saw in front of him was not the Will that first moved to Canada, shy and scared and unsure.

This Will was loved, had been tested and passed. 

With a soft smile he thought of Frederick, thoughtful, sarcastic Frederick, who played his hand close to his chest yet loved more passionately than anyone he’d ever met. Checking his watch, he once more looked at himself in the mirror before leaving his room and heading for the bathroom Frederick was currently showering in.

If he walked into that shower they would absolutely be late.

With a smirk and a tight, happy feeling in his heart he shrugged, pushing the bathroom door open.


End file.
